


Gutter Fires

by sumthingsumthing



Category: RWBY
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Yang is a gangster, more like a Yangster
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-05-22 06:39:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 45,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6069012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumthingsumthing/pseuds/sumthingsumthing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Expensive motorcycles and shady underworld contacts don't come from nowhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Yang sighed as she stared at the flickering ember of her cigarette. When her new boss had offered her ‘exciting new opportunities to develop skills and make contacts in an up and coming organization’, she’d been hoping for something better than being _lookout_.

Yang had been doing that since she was thirteen.

She took another drag and tried very hard not to cough, and mostly succeeded. Then she washed it down with a swig of cheap beer and tried very hard not to gag, and mostly succeeded.

No, Yang wasn’t actually old enough to buy either alcohol or cigarettes, but she had a shiny new id card that said she was, courtesy of her new boss as a sign-on bonus.

And no, Yang didn’t actually enjoy either alcohol or cigarettes, but seeing as how she was ‘legally’ able to buy them now, she was determined to _make _herself enjoy the experience.__

__So that was one point in favour of her employer, at least, but the taste in her mouth and queasyness in her gut and itch in her throat and lungs were definite points against._ _

__After flicking her near burnt out stub into the street, Yang took a glance around, but in a way that suggested casual people watching rather than her actual job of completely serious people watching. The streets were mostly empty, it being fairly late, but small smatterings of pedestrians and the occasional vehicle passed by. Despite the late hour, the street was well lit, by both lamp posts and the quarter-forged moon._ _

__She was seated seated in a small outdoor patio section of an equally small bar. The patio was somewhat shielded from sight by a low shrub wall, but it didn’t block the critical sightlines she needed to know if someone- or a group of _someones_ \- was coming by to interrupt the ‘exciting new opportunity’ that was soon to be happening down the block._ _

__Just as importantly, Yang herself was fairly inconspicuous. A few other patrons were seated on the patio so that she could blend in, at least as well as her massive blonde mane would let her, but not so many as to be distracting. Not that she was in any real risk, or that someone noticing her would actually _mean_ anything, but still. It was the thought that counted, right? Someday Yang might be in a situation where getting spotted would matter, and practice made perfect. All in all she was fairly proud of herself for picking out the spot._ _

__Yang was debating whether she wanted to light another cigarette (this one she promised herself she’d take more than two drags from) when she heard the tell-tale boisterous chatter of a group of young men. She did the first of her obligations immediately- her _job_. _ _

__There were three men, and although they weren’t obviously armed, they carried themselves in a self-assured, almost cocky manner that either meant gang members or worse, young Hunters-to-be. Yang recognized this walk because it was the almost the same as the walk that moved her from place to place, minus her practiced hip sway of course._ _

___This could be trouble_ , she thought. Gang members would make things messy but would ultimately back down, but Hunters, even young and untrained ones, would most certainly result in a street brawl and that was no good for her boss, which meant it was no good for Yang. She pulled out her Scroll and found the contact labelled ‘work’- not her boss’ number, but someone who’d be with him. In the end though, Yang decided against calling or texting, as the three men were moving away from the location at a fairly brisk pace. Hunters or not, they’d be long gone soon enough._ _

__Having satisfied her duty, Yang proceeded onto her second obligation- _ogling_. The seeming leader of the trio was handsome enough, in the utterly-generic tall, muscular, short-brown hair sort of way. The second’s long, swept back gunmetal-blue hair caught her eye, and the third… well, points for _boldness_ , with that hairdo. _ _

__Yang sipped her drink and considered getting their attention. She was bored, and a young lady drinking alone was kind of odd, wasn’t it? Some company wouldn’t be amiss._ _

__She shook her head, creating golden ripples in her hair. That was a weak rationalization, and she knew it. She was on the job, not here to socialize. They’d just be a distraction or a nuisance, and if they were potential threats, keeping them around would be pure stupidity._ _

__Besides, they seemed like assholes._ _

__Nothing of interest happened after that and time passed slowly. Yang found herself checking the time on her Scroll more and more. She nursed her half-full drink, but ordered a second anyway. She lit another cigarette and only took one hit off it but barely coughed at all so she counted it as a win. She tapped her feet and drummed her fingers and mentally ran through her list of shampoos and conditioners and other assorted beauty products and reminded herself which were running low. She didn’t consider leaving, but she sort of wished that she did._ _

__It wasn’t that she was impatient, not really- she spent over an hour on her hair almost _every day_ \- it was just that she didn’t handle doing both nothing _and_ waiting very well, especially since if everything went fine she wouldn’t even end up doing anything. That was the worst to her, to sit somewhere doing nothing while waiting and, in the best case scenario, continuing to do nothing. She was a woman of action, dammit, not a woman of lazing about, getting paid to sit on her ass._ _

__But she’d learn how to be one, just in case._ _

__Yang had a simple motto in life- _be better_. It wasn’t enough to know enough to just get by, and it wasn’t even enough to be really good at just a few things. She had ambitions. Not any sort of concrete goal, no, but she wanted to be… _better_. Better than what, she also didn’t know, but that was what she wanted, and she wasn’t about to let herself get held back because of some minor detail she’d neglected. That meant she had to learn _everything_._ _

__Just in case she ever needed it._ _

__Learn to fight. Learn to look great. Learn to fight while looking great. Learn to get noticed. Learn to evade attention. Learn math. Learn history. Learn to pick a lock. Learn to drink and smoke. Learn to be patient. Learn to smile. Learn to frown. Learn to drink while upside-down. Learn to rhyme, _oh crap the time_._ _

__Yang checked her Scroll once more, while slipping ‘rhyming couplets’ into her mental category of ‘wordplay to learn’, along with puns and innuendos._ _

___More like in your endos_. Yang quirked a smirk at that thought, which turned into a full-blown grin when she registered the time. _ _

__Just a few minutes more, and she’d be done here. Maybe, just maybe, she might have to do _something_. Or maybe not, and she’d get the all-clear, meet up with her sister, grab some food (Ruby was always hungry and Yang wanted something settle her stomach), then hop on a late-night airship back to Patch. Either way, the waiting was over._ _

__Yang was deciding if she’d rather have open-late pizza or open-early waffles when she heard the distinctive beat of an automatic rifle, punctuated occasionally by heavy, ringing gunshots._ _

__Familiar ones._ _

__Coming from the shop._ _

__The shop that was supposed to be unguarded as her boss and his crew ransacked it._ _

__The staccato gunshot bass backbeat was joined a second later in counter-point by the warbling electronic police siren._ _

__And was that blast a firework, or a cannon, or both?_ _

__Yang sucked in a frustrated curse, instead settling for biting her lip. This was just about the worst-case scenario. Even if she didn’t particularly care about the loot herself, and she had faith that her boss would be fine and get away, there was a significant chance that a botched job would reflect poorly on her and all the ‘exciting new opportunities’ would slip through her fingers._ _

__What if whatever was going on was her fault? Someone she had let slip through? Those douchebags from earlier? Yang knew there were other lookouts who might have messed up, or maybe someone had just been in the store, so _probably_ it wasn’t her fault, but she didn’t know, and she had to know. She had to do _something_._ _

__Yang knew what she was supposed to do- keep watch, and try to distract or slow down any cops who came by. Not violently, but in an ‘oh officer, I’m in such need of aid; it’s all just so terrifying’ damsel-in-distress kind of way._ _

__On the one hand, a chance to practice her acting skills would be appreciated._ _

__On the other, Yang wasn’t in distress and despite the hair, she wasn’t much of a damsel._ _

__She took off running, towards the gunshots, her shotgun-gauntlets Ember Celica expanding and locking into place on her wrists, the unopened beer bottle and pack of cigarettes abandoned._ _

__

__

__She arrived just in time to see Roman Torchwick, her bowler hat-clad, mascara-eyed employer, clamber off a rooftop onto a waiting Bullhead VTOL , while being pursued by Ruby Rose, her cloak-clad scythe-wielding sister._ _

__Then the explosions started and Yang didn’t bother holding back her curse this time._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so first chapter of my first fanfic ever all done and posted! I hope you enjoy what's there so far. If not, at least I made something, and that's a success itself I think.
> 
> So this is not a one-shot. I do have a fairly longish(?) story planned. Just hoping I can keep my motivation and not give in to the tide of video games I want to play.  
> I totally realize this chapter was basically nothing but Yang sitting and thinking. Not very exciting, but hopefully still engaging? Things will pick up soon.
> 
> The quarter-forged moon bit was some world building I snuck in, so there's no confusion. Instead of waxing and waning, the moon 'shatters' and 'forges', reflecting the rotation of the broken half as it moves from 'Maiden' to 'Grimm' and back. I don't know, I thought that might be neat.
> 
> Fun fact: my entire life I thought the word staccato was 'stataco'.
> 
> Comments? Criticisms? Questions? I'd love to hear them.


	2. Chapter Two

Yang was not feeling so good. She ignored the buzzing of her Scroll as she browsed through some clothes. She knew who it was, she just didn’t want to answer them. That was probably making things worse, but she didn’t care. Yang was done with Roman Torchwick, done with his new opportunities, done with crime and smoking and drinking, done with… 

She furiously threw the blouse she had been holding back onto the pile, which earned her a glare from the clerk. Yang moved onto another rack and tried to focus on what she had to look forward to. She’d be starting her training to become a full Huntress in a week. At Beacon Academy too! That had to be worth at least… seven and half Torchwick-opportunities, Yang figured. Her sister would be there too, two years early.

Yang quashed the feeling of frustration and followed up by turning her Scroll off when it started buzzing again. Ruby was her _sister_ and Yang was so, so proud of her for getting accepted into Beacon early, and was overjoyed that they’d be in the same year. 

She most certainly was _not_ angry that Ruby had ruined _everything_.

And Yang definitely was not furious with herself for not seeing this coming. 

Of course Ruby would get involved. She was always going on about being a hero, so why wouldn’t she step in to fight off a group of criminals? Nevermind that it was _Yang’s_ new group of criminals. If only Yang had kept her away somehow...

Well, what’s done was done. She’d always known that if she persisted she’d run into trouble one day. While Hunters weren’t, generally speaking, officially sanctioned law-keepers (and the city of Vale’s council kept it that way.) they were looked upon as heroes, and made it a point to fight crime in addition to the Grimm. Yet instead of being arrested for vigilantism, the police and citizenry celebrated the Hunters, or at least turned a blind-eye. So it would be a surety that she’d end up crossing some one day, but she hadn’t expected it so soon. Before she’d even become a Huntress herself!

And she _really_ hadn’t expected it to be Ruby.

Luckily Ruby and that blonde woman had accepted Yang’s story that she’d heard the gunshots and come running. Ruby had squealed excitedly and bemoaned the fact that Yang was too late because, ‘they’d totally have taken out that creep together!’. The stern blonde (Professor Goodwitch, the combat instructor at Beacon, Yang was keen to note) had given them both an admonishment, but that was all.

It wasn’t the law she was in trouble with.

Yang hadn’t gone to pick up her pay from Torchwick (even though the heist was a failure, she still earned an hourly wage- funny that), hadn’t called, and had ignored every call or text headed her way. Truthfully, she was _terrified_. Not for her own sake, but for Ruby’s. Roman Torchwick was a dangerous man, and Ruby had just put a target on her own head. If Torchwick found out the two were sisters… well, Yang had seen enough mafia movies to know how that’d end.

So she was _done_. Done with Torchwick. Done with crime. Yang was going to focus on being the best damn Huntress she could be, and have a great time at Beacon with her little baby sister. Where Yang would be able to keep an eye on her.

Just in case.

In the meantime Yang was going to lie low and avoid trouble. So, stay at home, right? Except that Dad had caught on that Yang wasn’t going out and had been subdued the last couple weeks. He thought it was because she was upset that Ruby would be going to Beacon, for some reason. Yang considered telling him the truth, she really did, but didn’t because… because she was ashamed, Yang had to admit. Getting into trouble was one thing, getting your little sister (that Yang was supposed to protect) into trouble with a criminal mastermind was something else. In any case her father, Taiyang, had given her some money and told her to go buy something nice in Vale, and Yang had accepted, even while knowing it was incredibly stupid.

She consoled herself that it’d only be one more week until they were totally safe at Beacon-

“You know, it’s not a very good career move to ignore your boss’ calls,” a voice drawled out from behind her.

Yang didn’t really have a response to that.

She turned around slowly. “Uh, hey. Scroll died. You know how it is, right? Damn thing can’t hold a charge,” she simpered.

Torchwick just cocked an eyebrow. Or at least she thought he did. The motion of his head kind of suggested that he might have. The infamous crime lord had foregone his trademark bowler hat in favour of a pair of expensive sunglasses, leaving his bright red hair bare. In addition he was not wearing his usual white jacket and was instead he was wearing a dark blue button-up dress shirt, paired with a tie that was as red as his hair. 

Yang supposed this was as incognito as the man could get. At least he looked like he could pass for a legitimate supervisor.

“Right… well, we’ll discuss that at your performance review,” he said. Yang heard the cashier snicker, and shot her a glare. Torchwick gestured with his cane. Yang recognized the subtle threat. She knew about the cannon hidden within. She dropped whatever it was she was holding and slowly walked to the door, which Torchwick _graciously_ held open for her.

Together they walked down the street, Torchwick having taken a slight lead. Although his pace didn’t slow, Yang noticed that he walked with a slight limp. She knew that he didn’t actually have a limp, nor did he _need_ the cane, but she figured that it must be part of his disguise. A man who didn’t need a cane attracted more attention than one who did, she supposed. That, or no one would expect a master criminal to have a limp.

It worked, too and they passed a patrolling police officer without reaction. Yang already knew how to _get_ attention by changing how she walked, so she considered seeing a method to _avoid_ it in action a boon.

She tried not to think about who she was learning this from and what was going to happen her. Abruptly she realized she had nothing to gain by going with Torchwick and a lot to lose, and stopped dead. Torchwick was quick though, and turned before she could do anything.

“Going somewhere?” He asked, before sighing. “You’re not in trouble you know. You just seemed so _keen_ when I recruited you at Junior’s. What changed?”

Yang sure as hell wasn’t going to say the truth, ‘ _You got into a fight with my little sister and now I’m scared you’ll hurt her, and me to get to her’_. Instead she went with something that somewhat approached the truth.

“There wasn’t supposed to be any fighting.”

Torchwick gave her an odd look that translated even through the glasses. “And that scared you off? You took out over a dozen guys at Junior’s, plus him and his attack dogs. So the Goodwitch shows up, you’re gonna quit?” His disdain was palpable.

 _No mention of Ruby?_ Yang frowned. “No, it’s not that. It’s… why was there even any fighting in the first place?” It was a gamble. Pretend like she didn’t know anything, but bring Ruby to Torchwick’s thoughts.

In response, the man snapped his fingers with a grin. “Ahh, I get you. You’re disappointed in _me_ , aren’t you? A bust like that…” He trailed off.

 _He can’t seriously be- oh, bust as in the heist was a failure_ \- Yang’s thoughts were cut off when he started talking.

“I’ll tell you what. That whole thing was a fiasco. Let’s re-negotiate. I’ll be honest- I need good workers. Go-getters like you. I think you’ll find the new terms to be very agreeable.” Torchwick resumed walking, seemingly assured that she would follow.

To Yang’s credit, she did pause for a few seconds before starting after him. 

_What happened to, ‘I’m done’? ‘Ruby’s safety first’?_ , she wondered to herself. _Maybe… maybe this is good. I can find out what he knows about Ruby, or keep an eye on his plans and warn her, or…_

She came up with several rationalizations why hearing Torchwick out was a good idea. Some of them had merit, even.

But, truthfully- Yang didn’t want to quit. She never had.

They walked in silence through the streets a while longer. The crowds seemed to subconsciously move to avoid them. Yang wondered why that was. Something with their Aura? Or merely their clothes and bearing? It was a thought to look into, later.

Eventually Torchwick led them into a small pawn shop. The clerk (owner?) blatantly leered at Yang, but he was old and she was here for business so she flicked him the finger. Other than that, he had no reaction to Torchwick leading them through a door with a faded sign that read ‘en ploye s oniy’.

They made their way through a back area stuffed with boxes. Despite the front room’s dinginess and clutter, the back was quite organized and clean. There was a small section that seemed to be partitioned off as a makeshift ‘office’, with a small card table, two chairs, an old computer and a small filing cabinet. Torchwick pulled a chair out for Yang and she let herself be seated.

As he took his seat, Torchwick removed his sunglasses. He didn’t speak, but instead just leaned back and drummed his fingers on the table, looking at Yang. Yang found this to be an improvement. She always had trouble reading people when she couldn’t see their eyes.

“Alright…” Torchwick stretched the word out in a yawn. “Let’s get down to business. Lay our cards on the table, so to speak.” He made a slapping motion on the table.

“The other night… that was a disaster. Some half-pint with a hero-complex was already in the shop. She starts a fight, which of course attracts the Goodbitch, which means _I_ have to run off, with no Dust. _Fantastic_.”

Yang made no reaction to the mention of Ruby, and nodded.

“Now, that wasn’t your fault,” he continued. “But what’s more important is that it showcased how utterly _incompetent_ Junior’s men were. I mean, I had my reservations after seeing what you did to them, but hey! I figured, ‘oh maybe it’s just that she’s special, not that they’re _complete_ morons’. Wouldn’t be the first time. 

“Except apparently just anyone can take them out if they have a big enough butter knife. _Worthless_. Now, _my boss_ is in talks with another… organization, to secure a new group of dumb grunts. Hopefully they’ll be better than the last batch of morons, but I’m not making any bets.

“What I need is _competent_ people. Not just good fighters, but people who know what they’re doing. People who don’t need to be babied. Who always want to improve. People who get the job done- and not just done, but done _perfectly_.

“And I think that’s you, Miss Xiao-Long.” He pointed a gloved finger at her.

Yang was silent. Torchwick had a boss? And the kind of person he had described… that was the exact kind of person she wanted to be. It was a lot to take in, so she said as much.

“That’s a lot to take in.”

Torchwick chuckled. “It is, isn’t it?”

Yang thought for a moment, before asking “Isn’t it bad to give away your position like that? When bargaining I mean. You telling me all that-”

“Makes you think you could get a big raise, right?” Torchwick interrupted. “Thing is, I think you’ve got the potential to be worth it, if that’s what you want. Although… I don’t think you’re interested in the _money_ , are you?

“What gives you that impression? Hair this good doesn’t come _cheap_ ,” Yang joked, and he laughed.

“Ha! Don’t I know it!” Indeed, the criminal’s crimson hair, although short, was immaculately styled. Along with his custom-tailored suits, the man gave of an air of sophistication and perfection. Yang didn’t really think of herself as shallow, but she recognized and appreciated the time, effort, and yes, money, that people spent on looking good. She thought of it almost like… creating a work of art, with one’s own body.

This was part of the reason she had agreed to work with Torchwick initially. It was one thing to offer opportunities, but he actually looked like he could follow through. As if he aspired to be something great.

“But really,” Yang continued, “why me? I mean, it’s great that you think I’m great, but… Sure, you saw the fight at the club, but that can’t be all, right?”

Torchwick looked at her thoughtfully and tapped his chin. “Hmm, maybe… It’s not anyone thing I can point to, but just sort of the impression that I get.” He thought for a moment. “Can I ask you something? What was that fight about? He touch your boob or something?”

Yang snorted. “Pfft, no. I’d have done _way_ worse if he had. It was… well, I used to work for him. That was my resignation.”

Torchwick clapped his hands in delight. “Oh, excellent! This is something regular, non-criminal managers get to ask- tell me about your last job. What were your responsibilities, in what ways did you grow in that job, why did you leave, what is your greatest flaw… You know, that whole shebang.” He grinned.

Yang grinned too. “Well, usually I was a, uh, delivery girl. You know, moving… _packages_ to where they needed to be, or picking them up. Running numbers too. But also standing watch, or keeping an eye out for people Junior wanted seen- information broker and all.”

“Anything more physical?” Torchwick asked.

“What _kind_ of physical?”

“You know, shakedowns, muggings, hell, even bouncing at the club. What else would I mean?” Torchwick replied, confused. Yang merely cocked one eyebrow. Torchwick frowned for a moment, before abruptly starting. “Oh, _that_ kind of- no, no, I meant, er- that is- I didn’t- _did he have you beat people up?!_ ” 

The man had lost his usual composure. Yang smirked. She hadn’t thought he’d be so easy to fluster.

“No, he had the twins do that stuff,” Yang replied calmly, before dropping the bombshell. “But what sort of _physical_ work would _you_ have me do?” she asked with a salacious grin.

Torchwick seemed to lose even more of his cool, and… was he _blushing_? Yang could barely control her laughter. 

“Well that’s not… I mean- just the regular- the, the violent kind of… I’m not really in that, er, business area, so to speak…” Finally he seemed to regain control, and shot her a look. Yang burst out laughing. After a moment Torchwick chuckled as well. “Alright, you got me,” he admitted. “But seriously though- no, that sort of thing is not what I’m looking for.”

Yang continued grinning. “That’s good to hear. I mean, I _know_ I’m attractive… but yeah. Not really my thing, you know?”

“Got it.” He paused for a moment. “Where were we, again? Oh, right. I saw you take on a dozen guys and those twins AND Junior’s bazooka”-it was all Yang could do to not burst out laughing at the double entendre-”and he had you running numbers? Seems like a waste,” he scoffed.

“Well, that’s why I quit. Junior… it felt like he was wasting my time. Like he didn’t treat me or my talents with respect.” Yang paused for a moment. “And he… well, I kind of got the impression that, yeah, he wanted me for the… _other_ kind of physical. Not cool.

“I guess, also… there was something he promised he’d find for me. Some information. But that was years ago, and he hadn’t. So, yeah. I quit.

“And kicking his ass was a _great_ severance package, I’ll tell you that.” Yang leaned back, a happy smile on her face. 

Torchwick smiled too. “That’s good. In this kind of work, you have to _earn_ respect, although I’m sure you already knew that.” Yang had.

She took a moment to reflect on just how _odd_ the situation was. Here she was, talking to a master criminal, talking about how she’d beat the crap out of her last boss, talking about how he saw potential in her for a life of crime… and they were treating it like she was applying for some part-time retail job. She almost didn’t know how to handle it, and had let her mouth go on autopilot almost, just talking and talking and joking, while the real Yang watched and considered.

“I wouldn’t waste you like that,” Torchwick stated. “Like I said, I think you’ve got potential. Kind of reminds me of… me at that age! Always wanting more. Are you willing to put in the work?”

It was a no brainer for Yang. “Yes, absolutely. That’s… that’s _everything_ to me. Constant improvement.”

_What about Ruby…_

She continued, after a moment. “It’s just… I’ve still got some reservations. This all… it sounds good. But it’s like, how much of a commitment are you looking for, I guess? I mean, I’m ok with breaking the rules… but not with getting caught.”

Roman sighed. “Nobody is. But rule number one of this line of work is that you will, eventually. It’s not a defeat, if you have the right mindset. It can be… a learning experience. But it does close doors, doors that you might still want to be open, doors that might still be useful. You’re at Beacon, right? Training to be a Huntress?”

Yang nodded. “Er- just starting my first year next week.” For a moment she worried that she’d revealed too much, but decided that since he knew her age (he’d asked, when offering to make her the fake I.D.), he’d of course be able to figure out her school year.

“You know, I was training to become a Hunter myself, for a while,” Torchwick said. “It didn’t, ah, _work out_ in the long run, but I did learn quite a bit. Combat, weapons, Dust… some other bits and bobs. Incredibly useful things.” This was news to Yang, but it wasn’t really a shock.

“Now I’m not the kind of man to get in the way of a gal’s education, no ma’am. You being at Beacon, that’s a good thing. It’ll make you a better employee, in the long-term.” Torchwick paused, considering something. “You’re right though… that Dust robbery was a close-one. My first instincts were to have you with me in the store, but if I had-”

_I would have had to fight Ruby._

-”the Witch would have seen you, and bye-bye Beacon, huh? I get it, I do. You’ve got something good right now, something that I don’t anymore and that I can’t buy or steal back. Anonymity. Nobody’s looking for you. That’s useful. That’s good. Let’s try to keep it that way, right? For as long we can. We’ll start you… not small. Not the way Junior had you. But discrete. Important things, but ones there’s zero risk of being caught. Or at least, not by anyone who’d care about you.”

Yang thought about what he was _really_ saying. This… this wouldn’t last forever. Couldn’t. If she continued down this path, eventually she’d get caught, or slip up, or something. She’d be up against her fellow Hunters and Huntresses. She’d be up against her Uncle Qrow. Her father. Ruby. Could she turn her back on them? Could she face them in combat? The real thing? Could she bear to see the… betrayal, the anger, the confusion, the sadness on their faces?

She didn’t think so.

But that day would be a long time in coming, if she had any say. For now, she would take what Torchwick had to offer.

She was confident that when the time came, she’d make the correct choice.

“You wouldn’t want me to… You’re after Dust, right? The school’s got to have loads,” Yang offered.

“Hell no!” Torchwick exclaimed, shooting her a sharp glare. “The school’s also going to have on a tighter lockdown than Goodwitch’s ass. You want to put a tack on her chair, that’s your prerogative, but we’re not going to give them any _real_ reason to come after you, got it?”

She nodded, rebuked. Torchwick held her gaze for a moment, then smiled. “I like your initiative, though. Even if that wasn’t the best idea, at least you had one. That’s more than most people ever do.” Yang was pleased with compliment.

Torchwick leaned forwards. “So does this mean…?”

Yang nodded. “Yeah. We have a deal.”

He clapped his hands. “Alright! You’re gonna do great things, Blondie, I’ll make sure of that.” He reached out with a hand, and Yang took it in a firm shake. They stood together.

“I probably won’t have anything for you for a little while, though. A few weeks at most,” Torchwick apologized.

Yang shrugged. “That’s fine. It’ll give me time to get settled in at Beacon.”

One more thing…

“Hey, what about that Huntress, from the shop? Do you have any… _plans_ , for her? For messing things up? Or maybe… you want me to?” Yang asked. It came out like she was vicious. Bloodhungry.

Yang could fake a lot of things. The key was that she didn’t lie.

Torchwick looked up for a moment in thought, as he tapped his cane against his leg. “Hm, no. I don’t. These things happen. Little squirts like Red there are a dime-a-dozen. If I carried a grudge against every one of them I’d break my back. If you see her at Beacon and want to give her a wedgie or something, fine by me. But like I said, nothing that’ll get you under scrutiny, alright? Clean slate.” He laughed, and Yang laughed too.

They started walking back out to the front of the shop. Just as he reached for the door, though, Torchwick stopped.

“Oh yeah, before I forget- check your messages.”

Yang cringed. “Er- yeah, sorry about that-”

Torchwick shook his head, simultaneously putting his sunglasses back on. “No, the last message. It’s from a number that’ll let you get in contact with _me_ , instead of some stooge. I’m trusting you with that, Yang. Don’t misuse it, and be careful with it. For your sake, as well as mine.”

“So, what… no prank calls? And don’t run around telling everyone I’m in contact with an infamous criminal?” she joked lightly.

Torchwick laughed loudly. “Well, when you put it _that_ way… You’re right, you know what you’re doing. Smoke?” He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his back pocket.

“I thought you smoked cigars?” she asked, as she took one.

“Those are for special occasions… You know what? This is one of those!” He plucked the cigarette from her hand, replaced the pack and lighter, and then pulled a black leather case from the other pocket. From that, he took two cigars. Yang assumed they were fancy, expensive ones, but she didn’t know and she vowed to learn. He gave her one, put the other in his mouth, replaced the case, and pulled out a second, larger and sturdier looking lighter.

“Always be prepared… Learned that as a Beowulf-cub Scout. Another thing that didn’t work out, but some of the lessons stuck with me,” he muttered.

He showed her how to hold the cigar above the flame for the best light, and how to burn the tip in a circular motion to prime it. Once it was ready, he didn’t tell her not to inhale the smoke, and laughed uproariously as she hacked and sputtered. Once she’d calmed down, he showed her how to ‘puff’ it, until it made thick white smoke. Torchwick made smoke rings, which Yang thought she might like to learn how to do.

“You know, it’s a shame you don’t want any prank calls. I’ve got some _great_ ones”, she joked, as they exited the back room. They laughed some more as they made their way through the pawn shop. Yang even put some extra sway in her hips for the old shopkeep.

As she exited the shop, she took a drag while waiting for her eyes to adjust to the bright afternoon light. She didn’t cough at all.

Yang was feeling good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok! Chapter 2 done. It took longer than I expected. Writing this one was difficult for me. I had a tough time balancing out Yang's conflicting motivations and some writer's block.
> 
> Also, Fire Emblem is really fun.
> 
> Kind of a slow chapter? But at least there's some dialogue this time. Did I get the character voices right? Next chapter will have some action, and will come out sooner, probably. Hopefully.
> 
> Also, I guess when I said that the yellow trailer wasn't canon, that wasn't quite right. The fight happened, but the events before and after were different, and the reasons for it were different, as we just saw. The real big change is that Yang doesn't have Bumblebee the bike yet.
> 
> Anyway hope you enjoy! Leave a comment on this webspace if you want a pizza roll and all that.
> 
> Oh yeah, I don't know anything about cigar smoking, so that was all cribbed from like the first google result for 'how to smoke a cigar'.


	3. Chapter Three Part One

Today was Friday, and it was hard to believe that Yang had been attending Beacon for almost an entire week now. After the insanity that had been the initiation, it’d been hard for her (and many of her classmates) to settle back down into the routine grind of education. She was looking forward to her first class of the day, though- Introduction to Practical and Theoretical Combat Aura Techniques, with Professor Goodwitch. Looking forward to it so much that she’d arrived early. Almost half an hour early, in fact. 

That had meant getting up almost two hours early in order to claim the bathroom before her any of her three teammates, while also leaving _them_ enough time to use it before class. She wouldn’t, after all, want to be an _inconvenience_. The cafeteria had been closed, she’d been so early, so she’d had to go without breakfast.

So here she was, at the door to the classroom, which was, somewhat to her surprise, locked.

“Well… this sucks.”

Yang hadn’t really considered the possibility that Professor Goodwitch _wouldn’t_ have been in the classroom since the crack of dawn. Of course now Yang realized she probably was off doing…a staff meeting, or something. Yang also didn’t really have any _real_ reason to be early, except now she’d disrupted her morning routine and it was the principle of the matter, _really_.

Hoping that she wouldn’t be waiting long, Yang leaned against the wall. 

Yang was doing a mental review of the previous day’s lesson when Professor Goodwitch arrived. It had been less than ten minutes, so there was still a good twenty minutes until the start of the class, and no other students had arrived yet.

Professor Goodwitch looked at Yang and she placed the key in the door. “Good morning, Ms. Xiao-Long. You’re here quite early,” she said neutrally, a small amount of curiosity in her eyes.

Yang responded with a big grin. “Well, today’s Friday, so I figure the sooner we start, the sooner we finish, and the longer the weekend gets to be!”

The Professor shook her head, although Yang saw a glimpse of a smile on her face. “I’m afraid class schedules don’t quite work that way, Ms. Xiao-Long. That said, I admire your work ethic. If only _all_ your peers shared the same disdain for procrastination when it came to their assigned work.” 

They entered the classroom together, Yang trailing slightly. As they did, Yang thought she heard Professor Goodwitch mutter something, although she wasn’t quite sure. Yang was somewhat distracted, because now she’d _have_ to always make sure to do her homework on time and was wondering if that was worth having the Professor like her.

The classroom was quite large, befitting its use for the _practical_ aspect of the course. At the front was a large, raised platform for sparring or demonstrations. Force fields, inactive now, would activate during fights to prevent interference just as much as to protect the audience. Monitors were set into the wall above. They could be set to either show participant’s Aura-levels, their ability to absorb damage in its protective embrace, or as visual aids for the day’s lesson. Goodwitch’s desk sat to one side of the platform. She rarely used it in class, preferring to stand, but Yang knew she’d often sit down before and after class. The students were seated at large steps of solid, curving desks, auditorium-style.

Yang made her way to her preferred seat, close to the front, but slightly off-center. She placed her bag there, but instead of sitting, she made her way to the front, just before the large combat stage and began doing some simple stretches.

Professor Goodwitch looked up from her desk, where she was sorting through some papers. “That eager, are we? Unfortunately we’ll just be doing theoretical lessons today.”

Yang pouted and stopped her stretches, though she didn’t move to her seat.

After a moment, the Professor asked Yang, “Have you had a good first week at Beacon, Ms. Xiao-Long?”

“Oh, yes. It’s been great. Your class is my favourite, for sure.”

“Good to hear. I’ve had… mixed reviews, in the past.”

Yang wondered why. “Really? I gotta say, Professor, your class is easily way better than the others, even discounting the combat aspect. I mean, Professor Port had Weiss fight a Boarbatusk, but his class is still just, so useless.”

Goodwitch apparently finished whatever paperwork she had been doing, and pulled out a large stack of papers, which she began rifling through. “I’m sure that Peter’s… _unique_ teaching style has its merits,” she said dismissively. “You should keep a more open mind. That said, yes. Many students do not like my focus on critical-thinking and problem-solving, and would instead prefer to mindlessly regurgitate trivia out of the textbook.”

“Ah, but that’s _why_ your class is my favourite!” Yang exclaimed. “The critical thinking, I mean. Not the regurgitating. I had enough of _that_ all over my shoes on the ride here. And no- it wasn’t mine,” she said in a serious tone, wagging one finger at the Professor.

For her part, Goodwitch was looking at Yang with an inquisitive expression that Yang did her best not to let unsettle her. “Perhaps I’ve…” the woman began in a low voice, before trailing off.

“How is your sister doing? No more run-ins with criminal masterminds?” Goodwitch asked suddenly, startling Yang.

“Hmm? Oh, Ruby’s doing great. I mean she’s nervous about being team leader, but I know she’s got it in her. I’m really excited to be on her team. It’s great! Just like at home.

“As for criminal masterminds… oh yes, absolutely! He gave me his number and we’re meeting up tonight! Hot date!” Yang complemented her cheery grin with a double finger-snap and a wink and was rewarded by a snort, an eye-roll and the tiniest of lip quirks upon Goodwitch’s normally stern face.

The Professor didn’t speak further, but stood, carrying the large stack of papers. Yang moved forwards to get a better look.

“What are those, Professor?”

“These are today’s quiz. The weekly review? I believe I mentioned it on Monday while going over the syllabus, and again yesterday.”

“Oh, of course! I’m totally ready. I was just curious.” It wasn’t a lie- Yang had spent quite a bit of time reviewing, although because she normally paired it with some other activity, like doing her hair in the privacy of the bathroom, that fact may not have been so apparent to _some_ people who really should just learn to mind their own business.

She moved closer, until she was only a few steps away from the instructor’s desk. “Do you want some help handing them out?” Yang asked.

Goodwitch shook her head. “Thank you for the offer, Ms. Xiao-Long, but that won’t be necessary.” 

With that, she stepped out onto the combat arena at the front of the class until she was center stage. Holding the stack of quizzes in her left hand, she pulled out her riding crop slash wand in her right. With a swift flick, the room erupted into a storm of paper. They flew in a seemingly chaotic manner, yet in just a few seconds they had all settled neatly down, one at each seat.

Yang clapped politely, from where she’d taken a seat on Goodwitch’s desk. A student Yang didn’t recognized entered the room uncertainly before moving to a seat at the back.

“That was great, Professor!” Yang said as the woman sheathed her crop back in its thigh-high boot-holster and began moving back towards her desk. Yang hopped off and stepped forwards as well. “Did you have to practice lots to learn how to do that?”

“Yes. It took me many, many hours. Although my Semblance has many uses, I find fine control and multi-tasking to be the most useful, and thus the most desirable, Ms. Xiao-Long.”

Yang smiled. “Yeah, I bet you’re really good at juggling too, Professor. Oh, and you can call me Yang, by the way.”

That got her a bemused look. “Yes, I suppose I _can_ call you that, Ms. Xiao-Long. Why don’t you take a seat? Class will be starting soon.” Indeed, while they’d been talking a few more students had come in, although the majority had not arrived yet. 

“Aww, alright.” Yang gave a theatrical pout, but she began moving away. Just as she started, she heard the Professor say, “And yes, Yang, as a practice technique, I did take up juggling. My record is fifty-six concurrent objects.” 

Yang’s face broke into a huge grin and she hurried back to her seat. When she got there, she found her teammate, Weiss Schnee, waiting for her with an incredibly baffled expression.

“Just what are _you_ doing here so early, Xiao-Long? And why were you talking to the Professor?” Weiss demanded.

“Oh, I realized you were right about not studying,” Yang said flippantly, as she took her seat. “But I know I’m just too _stupid_ to ever pass, so I was seeing if perhaps the Professor and I could come to some… other… arrangement.” As she spoke, she began a slow sort of shimmy in her chair, and began lightly pulling her uniform’s skirt up her left thigh, the closer to Weiss.

Weiss’ pale skin turned the most _amazing_ shade of red. “That’s not- I _never_! You- you…” She paused for a moment, and seemed to settle down. 

“Yang… I never meant to imply…” 

Yang put one finger to her mouth coquettishly and looked at Weiss with half-lidded eyes.

Weiss turned away with a frustrated huff, which made Yang laugh. Luckily they were joined by Yang’s partner and other teammate, Blake Belladonna, who took her customary seat in between Weiss and Yang. She smiled in greeting, the warmth spreading to her golden-yellow eyes, but she didn’t say anything as she curiously began poking at the quiz sheet in front of her, currently face-down.

Yang sighed, and started watching Professor Goodwitch, who was still standing out on the combat arena. She didn’t know why she and Weiss didn’t get along. Well, that wasn’t true. Yang knew why Weiss didn’t like her- it was because Yang was always razzing and teasing her. She just thought that it was so _easy_ to get a reaction out of the heiress, and it was always so entertaining when she did!

What Yang didn’t know was why _Yang_ didn’t like _Weiss_. Surely being friends with an heiress of the one the world’s richest and most powerful companies would be a _good_ thing, right? Yang knew the importance of building contacts. She knew she should be doing everything she could to be friendly with Weiss, not antagonizing her. But Yang couldn’t help herself. Annoying Weiss was almost a reflex, something she did automatically.

The rest of the students filled in as the clock ticked down. Finally, just a few seconds before the final bell, Yang’s fourth teammate, illustrious captain, and little sister, Ruby Rose, flew into the room in a blur of rose petals.

“OhmygoshIcan’tbelieveImadeitYangwhere _were_ youIwaitedinthecafeteria _forever_ thatwaswhyIwaslatewhydidyouleaveso _early_ thisisallyourfault-”

Yang was saved from having to respond by the loud ring of the bell. 

“Good morning class,” Professor Goodwitch began, effortlessly gathering the room’s attention. “I trust you’ve all had a good first week?” There was a low, half-hearted chorus of affirmation.

“Hm. Well, I hope you show more enthusiasm for your review quiz.” _That_ , in contrast, earned a number of groans, although Yang let loose with a quick “Woo!”.

“Thank you, Ms. Xiao-Long.” The Professor didn’t look at Yang as she said that. “I believe that none of you should have any difficulty with this quiz, if you’ve been paying attention and put some thought into it. You have ten minutes. Begin.”

The room filled with the rustling of paper. Yang pulled out her custom “Livin’-the-Highlight“ pen; the shell of a massive yellow highlighter that she’d emptied out and cut the tip off of, which she had replaced with the inkwell and tip of a ballpoint pen she’d glued into place. It had orange ink, which Yang assumed wouldn’t be a problem.

Once everyone was ready, the Professor instructed them to begin. Yang flipped over the paper in front of her. To her surprise, there was only one question on it:

_Describe one of the sparring matches you’ve seen this week, the successful stratagem of the victor, and a potential counter the loser could have employed._

Yes, Goodwitch’s class was Yang’s favourite, for sure.

She thought for a moment before beginning to write. There was one obvious choice to her- Blake’s match against the blue-haired Sky Lark from the previous day. Yang had been amused to recognized him, and two of his teammates, Cardin Winchester and Russel Thrush, from the night of the failed heist. 

The match had been a textbook mouse vs. Goliath battle, with Blake’s speed and elusiveness against Sky’s armour and his halberd’s reach. Blake had expertly avoided his swings and thrusts, baiting him out into wide, easily dodged blows before retaliating with swift cuts and slashes. Yang had been very impressed by Blake. Although she hadn’t said a word during the fight, a contrast to Yang’s own style, Blake had cut the boy down with a focused ruthlessness that Yang admired.

Although Sky had started out arrogant, he swiftly became timid and cautious, which only allowed Blake more openings to attack, or better yet, to feint, and force him to either counter-attack awkwardly or to yield positioning. In Yang’s opinion, this had been his error- allowing his opponent to dictate the terms of battle. She was beginning to detail her proposed counter-strategy, her personal favourite, when-

“Ouch!”

Yang looked up towards the front of the room, where Professor Goodwitch had just sat down at her desk. Now she was half-standing awkwardly, while rubbing… the back of her thigh. The class gave a few nervous snickers.

Goodwitch straightened and marched out in front of the class. She fixed them all with a steely gaze, completely unembarrassed, and asked, “Who is responsible for this?” She held something out between two fingers. Although it was small, a few people recognized what it was, and the knowledge spread quickly throughout the class in whispers and giggling mutters.

Yang already knew what it was.

A thumbtack. 

Yang let her face show her amusement, knowing that the best way to attract attention would be to act unusual, and pretending she _didn’t_ find this funny would be incredibly unusual for her.

The Professor glared at them all a moment longer, moving from person to person. She held Yang’s eyes for a moment, but moved on.

“Noone’s going to take responsibility, then? Very well. I _had_ planned on doing some sparring sessions today, but instead we’ll be focusing on academic theory.” She let that hang over the class, which had erupted into angry whispers. A few people had even shouted out. Yang recognized Jaune Arc, or Vomit Boy, as she thought of him, giving out a pitiful “Noooooo...”

A few of the harsher mutters came from Yang’s team- or one member in particular. She didn’t bother looking, but instead covered her growing smile with her hand, while trying to force her eyes into something resembling a worried, concerned expression.

Professor Goodwitch waited a moment longer. “Hmph. I see. Finish your quizzes. You have four minutes remaining. I hope whoever is responsible is pleased with themselves.”

Yang was.

Yang finished her quiz, and thought she had answered quite well, although Goodwitch frowned when she saw the orange ink. The rest of the class passed without incident, although it was a long one. In deference to the amount of setup time a combat lesson needed, the class was double-length, and stretched until lunch. However, this meant that when they focused on the theoretical, it was a heavy dose of book-learnin’. 

Although Yang valued improving herself, and thus, valued accruing knowledge, she’d always found sitting still in a classroom difficult. However, Goodwitch kept her lessons challenging, and fast-paced, without going into Doctor Oobleck’s breakneck speed, and Yang found herself quite engaged. That said, she was very happy when the class was over.

As everyone began leaving, Yang wanted to say something to Professor Goodwitch, who was talking to some other students, although she didn’t know what. However, Ruby pulled her away, and they were joined by Blake, Weiss, and Vomit Boy’s much more impressive teammates.

They walked through the halls towards the cafeteria in a large group. Yang was looking forward to lunch, having skipped breakfast. Ruby, Jaune, and his short, hammer-wielding teammate Nora had run off ahead to get seats and places in line, with Nora carrying her unwilling partner, Lie Ren, in a firefighter’s lift. This left Yang, Weiss, Blake and the final member of Arc’s team, Pyrrha Nikos.

Ruby and the others had only just gotten out of sight when Weiss rounded on Yang, pointing an accusing finger at her. “Why would you do that?” she demanded to know.

Yang cocked one eyebrow. “Do what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You put the tack on the Professor’s chair! I know it was you, Yang, don’t try to deny it! And your childish action cost us combat experience!”

“That was you, Yang?” Pyrrha asked.

Yang shrugged. “Alright, you got me. Yeah, I pinned Goodwitch’s ass. But what’s wrong, Princess? I thought you were all about books and getting a _proper education_ ,” she said sarcastically.

Weiss sputtered. “That was- this is, this is different! A completely different situation! But still, the fact is your actions cost the whole class! And must you put it so _vulgarly_?”

“I’ll _put it_ how I want, Princess,” Yang smirked. “And no, they didn’t.”

“YOU! ARGH!,” Weiss shrieked. “You insufferable little-” She looked to Pyrrha for support. Pyrrha shuffled uncertainly, clearly not wanting to get involved.

“Er- well...” She trailed off awkwardly.

Yang caught Blake’s eye, who seemed just as uncertain. “It _was_ kind of funny,” she offered hesitantly. Yang gave her a thumbs up.

Weiss was not pleased. “I can’t believe- of all the things… I just DON’T UNDERSTAND! Why would you DO something like THAT?!”

Yang held her hands up placatingly. “Woah there, shortstuff. No need to get upset.” She ignored Weiss’ furious glare, before continuing. “I guess I just wanted to… see if I could? You know how it is. You get an _idea_ , and you just _have_ to follow through. And, I wanted to see what would happen, too.”

“YOU WANTED TO SEE WHAT WOULD HAPPEN?!” Weiss was yelling now, a high shriek that set Yang’s teeth on edge. Pyrrha reluctantly tried to calm the both of them, but they both ignored her. “You… you- YOU ARE AN ABSOLUTE… LOUT, YANG XIAO-LONG!”

Yang burst out laughing. “A… a _lout_! A lout? Seriously?” she wheezed, barely able to catch her breath, but there was a harsh edge to her laugh. She’d never been called _that_ before, and she’d been called a lot of things.

“Yes, and you deserve much more and much worse.” Weiss finally dropped her volume, exchanging it for what Yang was sure _she_ thought was an icy tone. “I’ve never met someone so rude, and uncouth, and IMMATURE!”

Pyrrha tried to interject again. “Girls… people are staring. Please, calm down-” but Yang ignored her.

“Oh, like you’re really any different,” Yang said harshly, her breath back in control. She was starting to feel angry too, and it wasn’t the good kind that fueled her in fights, but the kind that _started_ them.

Weiss looked shocked. “WHAT? I’ve been trained since I was a child in etiquette and manners by the finest of instructors-”

“Then why are you such a _bitch_.”

There were a few exaggerated gasps from the small group of onlookers they’d attracted. Pyrrha backed away, wringing her hands. Blake had moved off to the side, in an unobtrusive location against the hallway wall. Watching, but not intervening.

_Did I just say that out loud? Crap. Well, nothing to do but roll with it._

“WHAT did you just call me?” Weiss advanced on Yang, fury blazing in her ice-blue eyes, somewhat paradoxically, Yang thought.

“I said… you’re a _bitch_ , Weiss. You’re rude, and selfish. You insult Ruby constantly. You insult _me_ constantly. You said I was a complete _idiot_ , to my _face_ , just because I didn’t want to study with you! I only put up with you _at all_ because Ruby _begged_ me! If this is how those instructors taught you to act, either they were the worst teachers ever, or you were a terrible student!” Yang didn’t yell. Instead she stressed her words, blasting them out like verbal punches.

Weiss didn’t say anything. Her mouth hung half-open, and her eyes held a strange mixture of anger, and hurt, and… regret.

But Yang didn’t care. She’d figured out why she hated Weiss so much.

“I wonder how much of your Daddy’s money you’ve _wasted_ ,” Yang hissed in a low voice, leaning in. “How _disappointed_ he must be. All the opportunities in the world, and you’re just a spoiled _brat_. A _disg_ -” She was interrupted by Weiss’ palm hitting her cheek. Hard.

Weiss turned and stormed off without another word.

Pyrrha finally seemed to find her voice, after everything was done with. “Yang… that a low blow,” she said sternly. “You went way too far.”

Yang stood, breathing heavily and regretting everything as the crowd started to disperse, sensing that the show was over.

“Pyrrha… just shut up. Shut up and leave me alone. _Please_.” Yang rubbed the side of her cheek. Pyrrha looked at her for a moment with something that Yang really hoped wasn’t pity, before walking off. Yang stood in the hall for a few more moments.

Her eyes itched. The light was too bright.

She rubbed them, but she wasn’t crying.

She felt a hand cautiously touch her shoulder and she looked over, into Blake’s warm, reassuring eyes.

Blake smiled softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters down. Look at them fall!
> 
> So with this chapter I tried something- we get a timeskip, and only have Yang's view of her interactions with Weiss. Obviously she's a bit biased! So we have to ask- was Weiss really all that bad?
> 
> Bonus points to anyone who knows exactly when Yang placed the tack.


	4. Chapter Three Part Two

“Alright, let’s hit the town! Blake, you in? Come on!” Yang stood in the middle of the team’s shared dorm, absently doing a few last-minute fixes to her hair and standard outfit.

Blake, who was reading on the lower ‘bunk’ of the shared library slash bunk bed she shared with Yang, didn’t look up. “Pass.”

Yang gave a theatrical whine. “Awww, really? It’s our first weekend as partners…”

Blake looked up, eyebrows furrowed in thought, and Yang thought she’d pressed too hard. “Well, when you put it like that…” she began, and Yang cringed internally. “Still nope. I’m not one for clubs or whatever.”

“Alright… suit yourself,” Yang pouted, though actually she was pleased. While she really did want to go out clubbing with Blake sometime, tonight was not the night. She’d only invited Blake for appearances.

Ruby piped up from the top of _her_ curtain-clad make-shift bunk bed, where she wearing pajamas and working on a part of her massive sniper-scythe, Crescent Rose. “I’ll go with you, Yang! It’ll be sister fun-time!”

Absolutely not.

“No way Rubles! You’re still _way_ too young!”

“But Yaaaang,” Ruby whined. “You’ve been going out since you were younger than I am! It’s no fair!”

Yang put a hand on her hip. “Tough break, kiddo. That kind of stuff's no good for you. All that club music rots your brain.”

“And _you’re_ a living example,” Weiss interjected venomously from her desk in the corner. It was the first thing Weiss had said to her all day, since their fight. Yang didn’t respond, and ignored the way Blake and Ruby’s eyes both flicked rapidly between the pair.

After a moment, Yang smiled and turned to the door. “Well, see you later then. I promise I won’t have too much fun without you! Bye!”

Yang had exited the room and taken a few strides down the hall when she heard Ruby calling her.

“Yang, wait! Just… for a moment.”

Yang paused, and waited while Ruby closed the dorm’s door before stepping in close to Yang.

“I heard about your fight with Weiss,” Ruby said softly. Yang didn’t respond, forcing Ruby to continue. “Yang… that’s not okay! We’re supposed to be a team… and I asked you to be nice to her, even if she is… kinda mean.”

Yang sighed. “I know. I know! I went too far. I didn’t mean to, but I just…”

“Lost control? Yang, you promised-”

“And I am!” Yang snapped, but she immediately regretted it when she saw Ruby flinch. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Ruby. I’ve really been trying to control my anger… but Weiss just gets under my skin, for some reason. I really regret what I said… especially after you’ve been trying to be friends with her.”

“Okay. I believe you, Yang,” Ruby said. “Did you mean it? What you said? About her being a disappointment?” she asked softly.

Yang shook her head. “No, of course not.”

_Yes_.

“I was just… I was angry. I know I don’t always show it, like I just play it off, but the stuff Weiss says sometimes, about me being stupid… I don’t know. It did get to me, I guess.”

Yang was looking at her feet when Ruby enveloped her in a hug. “You’re not stupid, Yang. You know that right? Even if sometimes you really act like it.”

Yang let out a half-snort of amusement, before worming her arms out of Ruby’s to embrace her too. “Thanks, squirt.” She paused for a moment. “I’m going to apologize to Weiss. I will. Just… not right- Soon. I want to give her some time to calm down.”

“She seems pretty calm now.”

“Are you sure about- no, never mind... I guess I want some time to calm down myself,” Yang explained.

“Okay,” Ruby sighed. She broke the hug and stepped back and caught Yang’s eye.

It took all Yang’s willpower to stare back.

“You mean it? You’ll apologize to Weiss?” Ruby asked hopefully.

Yang nodded. “Yes, of course. I promise.” She didn’t break eye contact. She didn’t even blink.

Ruby smiled after a moment and looked down. “Thanks, big sis. I’ll let you get going now. Have fun.” Ruby started to turn, heading back to the dorm.

“Hey, wait a sec,” Yang called to her. Ruby paused, and Yang moved in. “One thing before I go…”

Yang suddenly lunged forwards. She grabbed the waistband of Ruby’s pajama pants on either side with both hands, and then _yanked_ them up as high as she could.

“WEDGIE!”

Ruby shrieked with laughter.

“Yaaaaaang, nooooooo!”

Yang didn’t like looking looking into Ruby’s silver eyes.

They reminded her too much of her mother’s.

They reminded her too much of mirrors.

* * *

Yang made her way off the airship that transported students and visitors to and from Beacon and Vale’s nearby commercial district. Several other groups of students exited with her, chatting excitedly. She ignored them and adjusted her headphones, which were pumping out the classic Achieve Men song, ‘Tease it’.

As a group they made their way down the packed street, towards the nearby dance clubs that catered to aspiring Hunters and Huntresses, as well as the regular folks at the nearby university. Yang stayed in the midst of the pack, though she didn’t interact with anyone and thankfully, no one tried to talk to her. Yang noted that none of them were armed, at least that she could see. She adjusted her un-deployed shotgun-gauntlets, Ember Celica, on her wrists.

Several minutes of walking later, she turned suddenly onto a side street, leaving the others while they continued on the main road. Yang followed the side street for a few blocks, before turning again in her original direction. Although it cost her a bit of time and walking, Junior’s club was close to the main street and she wanted to give it a wide berth.

Yang kept walking. Her destination, the pawn shop where she’d had the meeting with Torchwick, was quite distant. Yang had looked up how to get to the pawnshop on foot, but hadn’t considered how far a walk it was. She regretted not looking up the bus routes and schedules. Previously, she’d generally stuck to the western end of Vale’s commercial district, the nearer to her home island of Patch. Aside from the main routes that led to the university, clubs, and Beacon’s airport, she was unfamiliar with the eastern and central part of the district. She vowed to memorize all the city’s routes, even the ones that ran through the industrial and residential districts.

Mostly she wished she had her own transportation, though.

Yang had been walking for almost forty-five minutes, and the sun had fully gone down, the sky fading into dark blues and purples. Although the streets were well lit, she passed less pedestrians and many of the store fronts were closed as she moved out the ‘nightlife’ area.

She’d already gone through one cigarette, but decided against another. She didn’t want to get addicted, not when smoking at Beacon without Ruby finding out was so damn _difficult_.

Yang’s album had finished a little while back, and she’d moved on to the band’s second album. She sang along to the chorus of her absolute _favourite_ song as she bopped her head.

“ _I’m still in the air (Woo-woah!)_  
_I’m flying_  
_and I’ll ne-ver land...”_

Yang trailed off as a car slowed and pulled up behind her, the horn honking once in a short burst, and the headlights casting sharp shadows in front of her. She didn’t slow or stop, and pulled out one earbud while moving away from the edge of the sidewalk closer to the road. Yang wasn’t _scared_ , no, but one of the lessons she held dear was to avoid taking unnecessary risks. Sure, she didn’t _always_ follow that, but she tried, and that was better than nothing, right?

“Want a lift?” a male voice asked from behind her. Yang spared a quick glance, but the figure leaning out of the driver’s hand window was shadowed from the headlights. She thought she saw the dim red glow of a cigarette, but she wasn’t sure.

In response Yang just called out, “No thanks!” with a cheery half-wave and kept walking.

_Not that kind of gal, pal._

“Well, suit yourself then,” the voice drawled. “I’ll see you at the shop soon then, Blondie?”

Yang stopped and spun around. “Oh! Torch- er…” Yang didn’t know if she was allowed to call the criminal’s name out in public. Seemed like it would attract too much attention, she figured. “I didn’t recognize you!”

“Hey now, that’s alright.” He waved her over, and Yang obliged, moving up to the car’s passenger seat. While she couldn’t get a great look at it in the low light, the car didn’t look as fancy or expensive as she would have expected. Nice, certainly, but in a low-key kind of way. Yang figured that was probably the point, but that was somewhat at odds with what she knew of the man’s personality. Maybe he had two cars, and this one was for when he wanted to be discrete...?

Yang opened the door and hopped in. It smelled like smoke, but the seat was comfortable. She saw that Torchwick was wearing his trademark outfit, a stylish white overcoat over a black dress shirt and black pants, with a grey scarf tied around his neck. His bowler hat sat in the back seat, while the handle of his cane rested against the manual gear stick console, within easy reach. Yang was jealous. She knew how to drive, but not manual.

“Gotta be careful about whose car you get into, don’t you? Could be some _nefarious_ character,” Torchwick joked, casually flicking his cigarette butt out the window, before rolling it up.

Yang laughed politely. “Uh, were you looking for me? I’m not late or anything, uh, Mr. Torchwick?” For some reason ‘Mr. Torchwick’ didn’t really seem to flow off her tongue, as if, despite his class, the man rejected formality.

“No, no. I just happened to be passing by when I saw you,” he said dismissively, while pulling the car out into the road. “And we’re all friends here. Call me Roman.”

Yang smiled. “Sure thing, boss, if you call me Yang.”

They sat in silence awhile as they drove. Yang wasn’t sure what to do. Should she… say something? She’d made small talk with lots of folk before, but never a criminal mastermind.

Roman spoke first. “So… good first week? Everything you hoped?”

“Sure was! I mean, some of the classes… and some of the _people_ are, just, ugh, but overall it’s pretty great! I uh, know it’s maybe a bit… _gauche_ to say, but my favourite professor is Goodwitch,” Yang replied.

“Nonsense! She was _my_ favourite, when I had her.”

“Wait, you went to Beacon?” Yang was surprised, but she probably shouldn’t have been.

Roman nodded. “Yep. I did. Didn’t graduate- I think I mentioned that- but it was good while it lasted.”

They pulled onto a highway on-ramp. Yang figured that, since they didn’t need to go to the meet-up point, having already met up, they were going to the job’s _actual_ location. She didn’t know where that was.

It occurred to Yang that she didn’t really know how _old_ Roman was. Somewhere in his twenties, sure, but he had the youthful kind of face that defied aging and could belong to a huge range.

It occurred to Yang that she was riding in a car with a shady man she didn’t know very well, and she didn’t know where she was going.

It occurred to Yang that she didn’t much care.

“How was initiation, Yang? Ozpin still flinging people off a cliff?” Roman asked.

Yang laughed. “Ha, he did that to you too? Yeah, we got flung into the forest and had to get some chess pieces from some ruin or something.” She eyed Roman sidelong. “A giant Nevermore almost ate me, but I gave it indigestion instead.”

“Well now, _that_ sounds like a story. But… you like your partner? Got a good team?” He actually sounded _concerned_ , which Yang hadn’t really expected.

“Yeah, my partner’s pretty cool. Kind of quiet, likes to read, but… she _gets_ me, I think.” Yang paused. “My team, well, I’m on it with my sister-” _Shit. SHIT_. “-which is alright, but her partner’s a total bitch.”

Yang considered telling him about the rich, _totally_ kidnappable heiress she shared a room with in order to distract him, but decided not to. It would just attract more of the criminal’s attention to her sister, in the end. Besides, Ruby would just be _so_ upset.

“Hm, that’s a shame,” Roman said. “Hope you can work things out.” Beneath the highway, Yang could see the northern river that would eventually join her southern brother, before they both flowed out together into the ocean to the west. On the other side of the river, they’d be crossing over Vale’s residential district.

Yang glanced at Roman. “So… what about you? You must have had a team, and a- ah. If you don’t mind me asking,” Yang finished lamely. She’d realized that if Torchwick had left Beacon to become a criminal, things may not have ended so well for his former team.

He didn’t seem put out by the question, however. “Yeah, we had some good times. I might introduce you to my partner someday.” Yang hadn’t considered that possibility- that Roman kept in contact with his old mates. Had they quit with him? Or had they kept on at Beacon? Up to three Beacon graduates with criminal ties was an enticing thought to Yang.

They fell silent. Yang thought Roman seemed somewhat melancholic, but she wasn’t positive. Maybe her question had affected him more than she thought. Roman asked if she wanted the radio and she said sure. The song wasn’t one she was familiar with; some hair-metal band with crude lyrics. She liked it.

Yang looked out the window, watching the scenery go by. It was getting fairly late, and traffic was thin. The residential district beneath was still well lit by street and house lights, but neither could hold a candle to the new-maiden moon overhead, flawless and full.

As they passed over the southern river, heading into the industrial district, Yang asked, “So where are we going, anyway? And uh, while we’re at it-”

“You want to know why I even called you out tonight?” Roman interrupted. Yang gave a small, “Mm-hmm,” of assent.

Roman pulled into an exit lane. “Right. Remember how I mentioned that my employer was signing on another group? Well, she got them on board, but now _we’re_ going to meet up with some of them to, ah-” He took one hand off the steering wheel and waved it in small circles. “-get them up to speed with our, hmm, _company values_ , you could say.

“And by that, I mean show them _exactly_ who’s the alpha of this mangy little pack.”

Yang nodded. Intimidation. Sure. That hadn’t been one of her _official_ duties with Junior, but she’d paid attention to his goons, and to the twins Melanie and Militia on the rare occasion they _tried_ , and she’d often had to get some creep who couldn’t get the hint to back off.

They drove down the exit ramp and moved into the industrial district. The streets were quiet, empty and dark. They passed by large complexes and warehouses, all seemingly empty or not in use. The occasional truck went by.

After several minutes of traveling through a maze of endless, identical steel, Yang had to admit she was somewhat nervous. Not for her safety- though she was cautious, she doubted whatever two-bit gang they were dealing with had anything that could threaten her- She’d taken on a giant Nevermore! And a whole club’s worth of goons! And Roman would be there, too- but she was worried about… screwing up, on her first _real_ job for the man. She wanted to impress him, and if she ended up needing his help to beat some thugs in line…

She didn’t let any of that show as Roman finally turned into a lane leading to some warehouse that was just as identical to all the others as they all had been. There was a gate blocking the parking lot that swung open as they approached. Yang didn’t know if it was automatic, or if someone had been watching. There were a few other vehicles parked in the lot- some nondescript vans, a pick-up, one beat up old car that looked barely functional…

Roman parked up near the building’s entrance, and the pair exited the car. Roman reached into the backseat first to grab his hat, though he didn’t put it on, and carried his cane in his other hand. They made their way to a glass door, which Roman opened and held for her.

“Nervous?” he asked as she passed. “Don’t be- these mutts have nothing on you.”

_So much for not letting it show…_

Just inside was a small carpeted area with some rooms leading off of it. Yang figured it was the administrative area for whatever company owned the warehouse. There was no one waiting to greet them. Or accost them. Yang didn’t like that, but Roman didn’t seem to mind as he walked confidently down a short hall to a large, brown metal door.

He looked back at her, and pulled two cigarettes out of his pack, offering one to Yang. She took it, and let him light it. They both took a hit.

Roman dropped his cigarette on the floor, and snuffed it out with his foot. Yang followed suit.

“Alright. _Showtime._ ” He raised and lowered his eyebrows twice in rapid succession, while putting on his hat.

Roman barged through the door, raising his voice and sweeping his cane out in a theatrical gesture. “Good evening, ladies and _tramps_! Since we’re going to be working together, I just thought I’d _drop in_ , and make sure you animals know who your new _master_ is!”

Yang entered confidently a pace behind him and quickly glanced around the cavernous space. She saw- she saw-

-white tunics-

-animal ears-

-steel half-masks-

-and the angry red slashes of a snarling wolf.

_Holy. Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Achieve Men's first EP, _Hunters_ , gathered them some attention, but it wasn't until their first full album _Let's Play!_ that they really hit it big. Since then they've released several other albums, including _Things to do_ , _Versus_ and _Go!_ , as well as a behind the scenes documentary, _Let's Build!_.
> 
> Recently however, one of the band's founding members left to pursue a solo career, and fans are divided on his replacement.
> 
> Bonus points if anyone knows what song by what band was playing on the radio.
> 
> Oh yeah, small change to canon- in Vol 3 episode 7 we see Cinder recruit the White Fang shortly after Blake left, which was at least several months before the term started, possibly up to a year or more. However, in Gutter Fires, Cinder recruits them much later, at the start of the school term, although probably in the same way.
> 
> Here's a map of Vale, if anyone wants to try to follow along.  
> http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/rwby/images/4/4c/ValeMap.png/revision/latest?cb=20130906002633


	5. Chapter Three Part Three

White Fang. _White Fang_. Yang was a warehouse full of Human-hating, Faunus-supremacist _terrorists and her boss had just called them animals what the hell what the hell-_

She tried very hard to look confident, and thought she mostly succeeded. 

Yang saw that many of the Fang seemed just as shocked as she was, as they scrambled to pull tight black hoods over furry heads or place steel half-masks over gleaming eyes, and she felt a bit better.

One of the Fang members strode forth. He was tall, and well muscled, with a full mask with red markings instead of the half-mask. His hair and any extra ears he might have had were concealed within the tight hood. Yang figured he was their leader, or at least the ranking member present.

“Who the _hell_ are you,” he growled. 

Roman seemed almost offended. “What, you don’t know? My apologies, then. Roman Torchwick, master criminal and certified _thorough-bred_ , at your service.” He flourished his cane in a smarmy bow. Yang wasn’t sure what to make of Roman’s blatant racism.

The Fang leader kept advancing. “Whoever you are, you’re _dead_ , Human. Your bitch too.” It took Yang a moment to realize he was talking about her.

“I’m sure _you’d_ know all about _bitches_ ,” Roman smirked. “But I don’t think so. I work for Cinder, and as of recently, you do too. So unless you want to explain to Mr. Taurus why you disobeyed him…” Two new names for Yang to remember.

The lieutenant stopped. “Yeah, thought so,” Roman said.

“What do you _want_ , then.” The masked man didn’t sound happy, although Yang didn’t blame him.

Roman sighed. “Didn’t I just-? Really, some… _people_. Like I said, I’m here to make sure _you_ know whose hand is holding the leash.” Yang thought he was going a bit overboard with the animal comments, but also thought she saw where he was going with them.

The lieutenant didn’t respond, and after a moment Roman prompted him. “And animals decide who’s the boss by…?”

Yang thought she could see the gears grinding behind the mask. After a moment he straightened and started to laugh, a low grating chuckle. “Heh. Heh heh. Alright. Fine by me.” 

He turned and started walking away. Yang didn’t think he was retreating though- just moving the fight to somewhere more advantageous to him. It was what she would have done. The warehouse was dimly lit. No lights were on, instead relying on the moon's light coming through barred windows. Tall stacks of haphazardly stacked crates blocked most of it though, casting parts of the room into dark shadows.

The masked man turned back. “It’ll be _my_ pleasure knocking the tar out of that gussied up head of yours, you racist prick.”

“Oh, it talks!” Roman laughed. “But no, you’ve misunderstood. See, this is why _I’m_ in charge- because I know how to delegate. Blondie?” He gestured her forward with a hand wave. Yang noted that he didn’t call her by name and- wait, what?

“No sweat, boss,” she said with a confidence she wasn’t feeling and stepped forward.

The lieutenant spun to face them fully. “This- INSULT,” he snarled.

“What, don’t tell me you’re _sexist_ ,” Roman tutted. “That’d be rather ironic, don’t you think?”

“Fine. FINE. But don’t blame me if her pretty little face gets all… chewed up,” the man said. He bent down, and reached behind a crate. A moment later he straightened, hoisting a massive chainsaw with casual ease.

“If you so much as _touch_ a single strand of hair…” Yang tried to fake bravado. She didn’t think she succeeded. 

Roman covered for her though. “Now, now. We’re civilized folks here- or at least two of us are. No weapons.”

“Scared? Not so tough, then. Fine,” the lieutenant said. He dropped his chainsaw to the ground with a crash.

“No, I just don’t want to have to explain to Cinder why one of her new pets is a stain on the ground,” Roman replied, and Yang appreciated the pep-talk.

They found an area in the warehouse nearby that had a larger clearing between the boxes. The lieutenant and Yang squared off in the middle, while Roman watched from one edge and the other Fang members circled around, either standing or sitting on crates.

The leader stepped into a boxing stance, bringing his arms up. She saw that he had intricate tattoos circling his left bicep. He snorted as Yang matched his stance. She hadn’t deployed Ember Celica, but neither had she removed them. No one commented.

The room was silent. None of the Fang had offered to call the start, and Roman seemed content to stay back as he lit another cigarette. Yang knew what he was doing- he’d stacked the deck as much as he could, but this was a _test_. The lieutenant was dangerous. Yang knew that. One didn’t thrive in a terrorist organization without some bloodlust, and skill in spilling it. A far cry from beating up some Aura-less goons, two glorified bouncers and a man clearly compensating for something.

If she wanted to prove her worth to him, _really_ prove it-

Yang breathed in. Out. In. Her breath was steady. Her nerves were gone. Everything crystallized. She’d been so scared of potentialities. But now it all burnt away, leaving the only thing that mattered in the ash.

There was no past. There was no future. There was no masked lieutenant.

There is no Yang. 

The is only the infinite impending _now_ of violence. There is only her body, a tool and a weapon. There is only her burning Will-

-and the fool that stands before it.

She _moves_ , stutter-stepping right, then left, faking a left hook, striking with a right cross. Her foe is caught off-guard, takes it on the mask. 

He swings back, swings high and left from the right. She weaves and sends boulder-breaking fists into his abdomen, a one-two combo and knocks him back.

He’s angry. He’s underestimated her, thought himself fiercer. But she is cautious, and falls back. He is strong. She’d seen him lift that chainsaw- no man, no matter his muscle, could do it as he did, not without Aura. She hasn’t _hurt_ him yet.

She must avoid becoming overconfident herself. Nothing is certain, she knows this. 

Nothing except violence. 

Nothing except _intent_.

And she intends victory.

Her foe attacks, flurries of simple strikes and basic combos. He’s a good fighter- she is better- but he’s tall and strong, with long arms and _fast_ , too. She moves and avoids his strength, parries his weakness, strikes when she wills at both. 

He surprises her, rushing forward with a yell, trying to grapple her down. But despite that he’s obvious, and she denies him this, moving back and driving an elbow down into his shoulder. His stance is weak, he can’t move her-

-but he wraps one fist into her hair, yanking her head and pulling her off balance. She yells too now, something angry and wild, and drives a knee into his groin. He lets go, and backs off, bent double and clutching himself.

She doesn’t pursue. Her blow had been weak, and she’d felt the hardness of an athletic cup.

Her breath is faster now, hot, but still steady. The mask amplifies his, shrieks it out metallic-

Yang sees her error, sees his head, bare but for the mask, dark hair cropped short.

Yang knew how she was going to win.

The crowd of White Fang soldiers offered shouted commentary. Cheers for their leader mixed with boos and insults for these interlopers. Yang cut through them, as she and the lieutenant circled each other.

“You know, I always thought those masks were weird. You Fang, you say you fight for the Faunus- but you hide behind those masks. You hide your features.

“Like you’re ashamed.”

That got her many jeers, but the lieutenant stiffened, and Yang was emboldened.

“I wonder what _you’re_ hiding. What we’d see behind _that_ mask,” Yang continued. “Something real pathetic, I think. Some whiskers? Buckteeth like a rat?” She curled her lip up and thrust her teeth out grotesquely.

He lashed out with a low kick that Yang checked on her shin. She jabbed one hand out as if to strike, but changed it into a _grab_ at the last second, going for his mask. He pushed her away and hopped back with a snarl.

“You stupid _bitch_. I’ve seen your face!”

Yang examined her nails. “Oh? I don’t mind people looking.” She struck a pose. “ _I_ have nothing to hide.”

He charged forward, shouting as he did. “You’re dead! I’ll hunt you down and kill you. I don’t care about _Cinder_ , you’re _dead_!”

The ferocity of his attack almost overwhelmed Yang. He stopped caring about her counter-strikes, and just lashed with whatever and whenever he could. He succeeded several times. Despite his lack of form, his strength gave the blows great pain. Yang felt her Semblance rising, his attacks fueling it as she fought the desire to _smash_ him, to _paste this vermin who DARED touch her-_

She remembered her father’s words, spoken to her during combat so she’d _listen_ to him for once.

_Your anger is one of your strengths, but it is not the best of you. Control it, or it_ will _become your greatest weakness._

 _Your greatest strength is your_ mind _, Yang. Use that, and you can win any fight._

Yang forced her rage down, hidden somewhere it could smolder, and grow, and intensify in on itself. Somewhere it would burst out later, all the more dangerous for its unexpectedness. 

Sometimes she thought she hadn’t quite learned the right lesson from her father.

Yang continued with her verbal tirade, even as they traded blows. “Struck a nerve-” Yang grunted as she took a hit to her stomach. “I’ve heard Faunus are half-breeds- someone literally fucking an animal-” She knocked his head to the side with a right hook, and then grabbed it and forced him into her rising knee. She released him and he stumbled back. This time she knew she really had hurt him, but she still didn’t go after him.

“-or getting _fucked_. So which was it for you, huh? Daddy so pathetic he couldn’t get laid, had to fuck a rat? Hope she was pretty at least.” Yang didn’t have any problems with Faunus, but she’d been around people who did, been around when they’d gone _Hunting_ , learned exactly what slings and arrows and spears worked best. “Or was it Mommy dearest-”

He charged with a roar. No words, just something animalistic. Yang grinned viciously as her favourite strategy, her sharpest weapon, struck home.

Sometimes she thought she hadn’t quite learned the right lesson from her father.

_Now. Now. Now now now nownownownownownow-_

Yang rooted herself, calling herself forward and letting herself out, making her will _manifest_ , something real-

She drew back, and then slammed her head into his, her forehead meeting the bridge of his mask, across his nose.

A sharp crack resounded through the air, and he dropped, and didn’t move.

Yang stood over him, breathing heavily. Her eyes itched, but she didn't rub them. Shocked whispers filtered through the adrenaline haze.

_Taurus. Bull._ Over and over again. She didn’t know what they meant.

Roman strode forth. “And there we go! I hope the point’s been made clear? I trust that your skulls aren’t as thick as this”- he nudged the fallen lieutenant with his foot- “one’s?”

The Fang members seemed to relent, and dispersed slowly and resentfully.

Roman took her aside. “Great fight, kid,” he said quietly. “Nice finish.”

Yang was still keyed up from the fight, and it took effort to match his volume. “Well, my dad used to always say my greatest strength was my _head_ , so…”

He laughed, but grew serious. “ _Hell_ of a Semblance you’ve got there.”

“About that,” Yang spoke quickly. “What was that they were saying?” she asked in a whisper. “About… a bull?”

Roman looked at her for a moment, before nodding. “Adam Taurus,” he said, dropping his voice even lower. “One of the Fang’s real high-ups. I like him. He’s actually got _style_ , if you can look past the horns. But he’s a dangerous man- very, _very_ dangerous.” He looked her in the eyes. She’d never noticed how green his were before.

“And your Semblance seems to work a lot like his.”

Yang frowned and looked down, not sure what to say. 

Roman clapped her on the shoulder. “Stay here a moment, alright? I’ve just got to finalize some details, and then we’ll get out of here.”

He turned, and then turned back. “Hey. Don’t worry about what that idiot said. You did your job, so I’ll do mine, and keep them line, and keep you safe. I’ve got your back.”

Yang hadn’t been worried, and decided she still wasn't. She nodded and Roman moved away. Yang hopped up to sit on a nearby crate.

She looked around, her mind still whirring. She saw the lieutenant get up, helped by another man. His mask was split, but he held one hand over his face and kept it together. She was kind of curious to see what was underneath, to see why her barbs had been so effective, but didn’t really care that much. Roman walked up to the pair, and they all moved on together.

Yang sat for a while longer. She saw the Fang members at work, maintaining weapons, moving crates around or checking their contents. She saw the glow of refined Dust come from within. The adrenaline faded from her, and left her jittery and weak.

She saw a female member, an obvious new recruit if her timidity was any indicator, whose hood bulged oddly, as if she’d had to cram a pair of giant ears into it. Actually, for all Yang knew, she probably had.

She wondered about the masks, and the hoods. Even though she’d been trying to taunt her opponent, she really was curious. One of the most interesting things about the Faunus, to her, was the sheer variety they possessed. Ears and horns, tails and eyes, from all sorts of different animal species… But the Fang’s outfit hid all that, and made them homogeneous. She supposed that was the point, but she didn’t understand why.

She wondered if Faunus with horns or tails cut holes in their uniforms. 

A pair of the Fang came near her, straining as they carried a metal crate each. They awkwardly set them down, but didn’t move away as they took a break.

“I can’t believe we’re working with racist scum like them,” one of them said. He wasn’t speaking too loudly, but Yang could still make him out. She wasn’t sure if the words were meant for her ears, or if they’d underestimated her merely human hearing.

“Yeah,” said the other, “it goes against everything the Fang should stand for- used to stand for. Never used to be like this.”

“I hear ya. It’s Adam’s fault- if he wasn’t so focused on that traitor bitch, Belladonna-”

Yang’s head snapped to them. Well now. _That_ was something interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIPLE POST for the Chapter Spree!
> 
> Woof, this was a big one. All three pieces were originally supposed to be one, but that'd be just WAY too long.
> 
> I feel like I could have cut things down majorly, but I kept a bunch of scenes that added flavor or characterization. Like Roman picking Yang up- I could have just skipped to Yang at the meet up point with less detail, but I thought it was more interesting this way. Hopefully I kept the pacing throughout.
> 
> As for the fight scene... I hope I did a good job?
> 
> I'm a bit apprehensive about having Yang beat up the Fang Lieutenant, when he was a fairly major threat in the show, but I figure it's ok because he was fighting without his chainsaw here, which puts him at a disadvantage. And who knows, maybe this'll give him some motivation...
> 
> Yang maybe isn't such a good person.
> 
> Now to sleep.


	6. Chapter Four

Yang chewed her pencil as she did some serious soul-searching. It was Sunday, and she’d been worried about this since the fight against the White Fang leader.

_Am I… a racist?_

Yang tapped her fingers on the wooden study desk, tucked away in a corner of Beacon’s massive, cathedral-like library. She’d always liked libraries as a place to think- not just for the quiet, but she liked the literal symbolism of being surrounded by thought given physical form.

During the fight, Yang had let loose with some, she had to admit, exceedingly harsh slurs and taunts. Her goal had been to goad the lieutenant into losing his cool, and she’d simply taken on what seemed like the most effective strategy. Despite its overwhelming success, the casual ease Yang had using those sorts of hateful comments worried her, as well as her lack of reaction to Roman’s own taunts.

Yang didn’t _think_ of herself as racist, but figured it wouldn't be a stretch, if she was. She was working for a criminal! She was fine with stealing, and beating the crap out of people, and… lying. But she wasn't fine with being _prejudiced_ while she did all the rest. The idea bothered her, and she didn't know why.

She’d never insult or hurt someone for being Faunus… but if she was _already_ trying to insult or hurt someone who just _happened_ to be Faunus for unrelated reasons, well…

That said, she’d spent a lot of time around people who _did_ have a problem with Faunus. Many of Junior’s goons would turn them away at the club’s doors, or harass them inside, or regale each other (and Yang, by extension) with exaggerated tales and ‘jokes’ whose humour consisted of nothing but hate, in concept and set-up and punchline. There was almost a desperate casualness to it, the kind of pathetic lashing out of some worthless nobody, whose only solace in life was to strike at those worse off.

Once, Militia Malachite had taken her aside and shown Yang her ‘trophy’ collection in whispered tones, but Yang thought they were too small to have come from actual people.

Yang considered that she might have picked something up from them.

While Yang didn’t think of herself as _actively_ racist, she conceded that she was probably _passively_ racist. She never stood up for Faunus, or denounced racism, or… To her, it was just something _other_ people dealt with and thought about, whether victim or abuser. Just a tool for Yang to pick up when she needed it, and discard when she didn’t. Nothing personal.

She’d never known any Faunus personally before, except for one she’d gone to school with at Signal and only spoken a few words to, but she didn’t _think_ she’d have any issue being friends with one.

So why was she so put off by the idea that Blake was a Faunus?

_Or maybe it’s the whole ‘ex-terrorist’ part of it…_

Of course, Yang didn’t actually _know_ that Blake was the same Belladonna that the White Fang soldiers had been talking about. It was a common last name… probably… that she’d never heard of before…

Thing was, though, Blake _always_ wore that big black bow on her head. She wore it in and out of the bathroom to shower. She wore it to bed. Yang had never seen her wash it, or swap it out for another. It was also unusually large, and sat kind of oddly on her head…

But more importantly- did it really matter, if Blake _was_ a Faunus? Yang told herself no, it didn’t. She didn’t like the idea of judging someone, of hating her, or fearing her, for the circumstances of her birth. It just seemed so… limiting.

Except she couldn’t stop thinking about Blake being a Faunus, and what she could be hiding underneath that bow.

_Or in her past…_

What about the situation was bothering her so much? Was it actually the Faunus aspect, or that Yang didn’t _know_ either way, or that Blake was keeping secrets?

_You’re one to talk…_

Yang _had_ to know. She decided simple was better, and turned to her right.

“Hey, Blake, why do you always wear that bow?”

Blake, seated next to Yang, idly thumbed a page in her novel. “It was my mother’s. I wear it to remind me of her,” she said, too calmly.

Yang nodded, rebuked, and made some noise that probably conveyed condolences. She chewed on her pencil a bit in thought, and came up with a more subtle plan.

“So… I should probably apologize to Weiss,” she said.

Blake grunted non-committedly.

“You don’t think so?” Yang asked.

Blake glanced at her for a moment, before returning to her book. “Well… I suppose. But… some of the stuff you said _did_ have some merit.”

Yang squinted one eye. “Really? I called her a disgrace and a disappointment to her family. Seems kind of… harsh, for just a petty fight about something stupid.”

“You’re probably right, I guess. But honestly, I don’t think it’s possible to be a _disgrace_ to the Schnee name.” Blake’s answer was firm.

“Because of how they treat Faunus?”

Blake nodded. “Yes. The Schnee Dust Corporation treats its Faunus workers _abominably_. Unsafe, often deadly working conditions, barely livable wages… They’re practically-” 

Yang reached out and swatted Blake’s bow.

Blake made a sound Yang had once heard an alley cat make when a rival clawed its eye out. She grabbed Yang’s wrist with her right hand, placing her left just beyond Yang’s elbow and _twisted_ , rising as she did. Yang’s head and torso slammed into the desk, her arm hyper-extended, almost creaking with the pressure.

It really hurt.

Yang twisted her head to look at Blake. She saw Blake’s eye, wide and wild with some awful mixture of rage, and hurt, and despair, and fear and she never wanted to see it again.

Despite the pain, her Semblance was barely a flicker, and Yang couldn’t muster any sort of anger to try to force it. 

“Blake… Blake, I’m sorry.” Yang’s eyes itched, but this time she was pretty sure it actually _was_ with brimming tears.

After a long, tense moment, Blake finally relented.

Yang sat up and cradled her arm to her chest, rubbing her elbow with her left hand. She didn’t look away from Blake, who had remained standing. Blake stared at Yang, unblinking, her mouth working but no sound coming out.

“I’m sorry Blake, I really am. I shouldn’t have done that,” Yang said softly. “I just… I thought… I was curious, and… you know how the saying goes.”

Blake’s eyes flashed and she leaned right into Yang’s face. “ _How_?!” she hissed.

“I just- I had a hunch, I guess. Don’t worry, I don’t think anyone else knows.”

Blake backed off, and seemed to calm down- or not so much _calm_ , but at least she wasn’t snarling anymore. She looked around quickly, but there was no one else in sight, isolated as they were among the massive bookshelves, because Yang wasn’t _stupid_.

Blake looked back to her. “I’m starting to understand Weiss’ problem with you a bit better,” Blake said in a clipped tone. Yang thought she probably wasn’t joking, and didn’t say anything.

“Yang…” Blake’s voice was strong, but her eyes pleaded with Yang.

Yang cut her off, speaking quietly. “I don’t care about you being a Faunus. I want you to know that. I don’t care what you- about your heritage. We’re partners, right? I’ve got your back, no matter what.” Yang listened for any trace of falsehood, far closer than even Blake would be.

Blake seemed to believe her. She slumped, and let out a heavy sigh. “I… OK. I just- I don’t-” She seemed almost close to tears, and Yang felt awful. She’d done _it_ again. Gotten so focused on her goal that she forgot what she was actually _doing_. Who she was _hurting_.

Yang bit down her frustration with herself and focused back on Blake, who was still standing, almost dazed.

“Hey, c’mon. Sit.” Yang patted the armrest of Blake’s seat, where Blake had pushed it out when she'd stood.

Blake sat, and pulled her chair back up to the table. She looked better, like she’d regained some of her spirit. She looked at Yang. “...I don’t know what to say.”

Yang shook her head. “Then don’t say anything. I-I really shouldn’t have pried, or… If you want, we can just… forget this happened. I won’t tell anybody, or anything.” 

Some small part of Yang, that she was very upset with right now, got the bright idea of trying to blackmail Blake. Yang snuffed it out immediately. What would she even have to gain? And maybe more importantly, what would she lose?

Blake thought for a moment and took a deep breath, and then shook her head. “No. No, I… This is good. I didn’t want to- to hide _forever_. I wanted to tell you… eventually.” She paused. “If you were someone I could trust.”

“And am I?” Yang asked.

Blake turned her gaze on Yang, apparently scrutinizing her. “Honestly? I barely know you. And you haven’t made a good case for yourself.” Yang couldn’t disagree with that.

“Even if I _did_ know you better, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve misjudged someone. ” Blake said that in a sad tone, so Yang didn’t press her on it.

“Hm,” is what she said, instead.

“Yeah.”

How could Yang prove that Blake could trust her? 

_Why was it so important that she did…_

Thing was, Yang didn’t really know if she was _actually_ all that trustworthy. Even aside from the whole ‘working for a criminal’ thing, Yang was… well she still wasn’t sure that Blake being a Faunus _wasn’t_ a problem, that Yang wasn’t subtly or not-so-subtly racist. That, in a moment of anger- or not even anger, but because she'd _wanted_ to, she wouldn’t go off on Blake, use her nature against her. Just like the Fang lieutenant. And just like she had with Weiss.

Yang threw her head back with a groan. “I messed up. I really messed up, didn’t I?” Yang kept talking before Blake could answer. “You have no reason to trust me. And really, with the way I’ve been acting recently, you probably shouldn’t. But… I can do better. I know I can. Just tell me… tell me how. Let me prove that you can trust me… that I’m worthy of it.”

Blake didn’t say anything, so Yang kept talking. “I don’t know. If you don’t want to, that’s- that’s fine. We can talk to Ozpin, or something, get new partners…” It wasn’t what Yang wanted, but she said it anyway.

Blake frowned. “Hmm. That’s one option. I was… thinking something different.”

“What… were you thinking?”

“That I’d ru- leave Beacon. Drop out.” Yang’s stomach dropped. She’d underestimated exactly what Blake’s secret had meant to her. That she was so ashamed of being a Faunus-

_No!_

-that she was so scared of being targeted for being a Faunus, that she’d leave it _all_ , because one person found out her secret.

“I’d really prefer if you’d stay,” Yang said, not quite pleadingly.

Blake gave a small, sad smile. “Yeah. I would too.”

They sat in silence. It went against Yang’s instincts- now was the time to strike, to make an argument, to say something, _anything_ , that would win Blake over. But she didn’t. Yang was very tired, suddenly. Tired of… just saying whatever she needed to say. Of being whoever she needed to be.

Blake looked at Yang, and spoke, soft and quiet. “Okay. I’ll stay. Please don’t make me regret that, Yang.”

Yang perked up, revitalized.. “You won’t! I mean, I won’t! I mean- great!”

Blake smiled, a real one this time. “Good to hear. But there’s a few ground rules-”

“Anything!”

“-First, don’t touch my ears. Second, _no one_ else can know. Period.”

Yang nodded. She could do that. “Yes. Of course. Makes sense.” She paused, thinking. “Just for the record… Ruby wouldn’t care, either. She’s… just great.” Yang saw the unconvinced look on Blake’s face. “You don’t have to tell her, and I won’t if you don’t want to, promise. I just thought… but then again, Ruby’s not very good at keeping secrets. So maybe not the best idea.”

“I’ll think about it,” Blake said, slowly.

“But we’re _totally_ telling Weiss, right?”

“What!? Are you…” Blake took one look at the smarmy grin plastered on Yang’s face. “Oh, _of course_ you’re joking.”

Yang tried to ignore the way Blake’s bow had twitched, and mostly succeeded. “Hey… speaking of, you must like, really hate her, right?”

“No, I don’t _hate_ her,” Blake sighed. “I mean, yeah, I have do have to wear my bow _all_ the time, now. And she _is_ pretty annoying… but at least she hasn’t made any racist remarks yet.”

Blake rubbed her temple with one hand, before continuing. “I can’t hate her. It’s the principle of it. Hate what she stands for, sure. But not her, as a person. She’s… she’s a product of her family. Her upbringing. She’s just a kid, she can’t control how the company operates. Can’t control what people think. She’s… not responsible. It’s not her fault. I have to believe that. I have to.”

Yang thought she understood, but something about the way Blake said all that made Yang think she didn’t, although she had a guess. She didn’t pry though- it was too soon.

Blake smirked, banishing her melancholy. “That said, it _was_ pretty nice watching you take her down a notch.”

Yang didn’t think so. Sure, she’d meant what she’d said, and she didn’t really feel _bad_ about upsetting Weiss, but she’d lost control. Yang had made an enemy out of Weiss, perhaps, for no reason other than a vindictive thrill.

And she’d upset Ruby.

Yang smiled at Blake’s comment anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another tough chapter to write, but a necessary one, I think.
> 
> Hopefully Blake's reaction didn't seem to out of character. It was pretty different than the one in the show but I think there's some points that change things up-  
> -it was just Blake and Yang  
> -she wasn't all riled up by Weiss' ranting  
> -her secret was revealed by Yang physically touching her, instead of Blake accidentally blurting it out  
> -she only revealed she was a Faunus, not that she was in the White Fang
> 
> edit: Oh yeah! I forgot, but another minor canon change- I'm making all of Team CVFY be first years. It just makes more sense to me, this way. Not a super big deal but it'll come up next chapter a little bit.


	7. Chapter Five Part One

Weeks passed and Yang and the rest of her team settled into a comfortable routine. 

True to her word, Yang hadn’t so much as breathed a hint to anyone about Blake’s secret. She also hadn’t asked about Blake being a Faunus, nor had Blake been inclined to share. True privacy was also at a premium in their too crowded dorm. Although the school itself was immense, with many nooks and crannies, Blake seemed to fear eavesdroppers or intruders.

Once, though- only once- when Ruby and Weiss had left for class, and the door was locked and curtains closed, had Blake removed her bow and let Yang see the furry additions that caused her so much grief.

Cat ears. She tried not to stare. Yang wasn’t really all that surprised, and she was oddly and disproportionately proud of herself for not wanting to pet them. That would have been weird, for several different reasons.

The team grew closer to Team Juniper across the hall. Jaune repeatedly hit on Weiss, which Yang subtly encouraged for laughs, until eventually he stopped. Ruby said it was because he was always at Cardin’s beck and call now, and she was worried for him. Yang didn’t much care either way. She thought it was a shame that the three excellent members his team were held back by him.

And it was true, too. Aside from Jaune, the other members of the team were clear contenders, along with Team Ruby, for best fighters in their year. Pyrrha, as a four-time tournament winner was no surprise, but Yang was taken by stoic Ren’s grace and agility. She was even more impressed by Nora’s sheer enthusiasm for hitting things with her massive warhammer slash grenade launcher, and became fast friends with her.

Yang wrote up a text to Roman, telling him she was quitting, telling him not to contact her. She stared at it for fifteen minutes before deleting it.

There was another team that were also strong contenders for top of the class- Coco Adel’s Team Coffee. Yang sought to befriend her, as with Team Juniper, befitting their prowess, but she found it difficult to connect to Coco, who always wore a pair of dark sunglasses. Despite that, the two would often talk fashion, or teasingly flirt with her male teammates, the hulking Yatsuhashi or the copper-haired Fox. As part of her effort to not be quite as terrible, Yang didn’t let her discomfort with his blindness show and tried to just ignore it. Or her confusion- how could he fight so well?

Yang’s luck fared even worse with their fourth teammate, Velvet. Yang tried to be kind and befriend the rabbit-eared Faunus, especially after seeing her teased and taunted- perhaps more to assuage Yang’s own anxieties rather than any real desire to be kind to her. However, Velvet didn’t seem interested in reciprocating, and always made a quick excuse to leave. Or, a better term might be to _flee_ , which Yang certainly did not appreciate, and had her racking her behaviour for anything that might have been accidently prejudiced.

While Yang knew that she and Ruby were excellent fighters (even if both of them had little patience for boring lectures and dry readings), she was pleased with both their partners… even if grudgingly, in Weiss’ case. Blake was both a skilled fighter and quite studious, but after seeing how hard Weiss worked, not just in studying, but in training and sparring, Yang had to admit that Weiss _wasn’t_ spoiled or a disgrace. 

That there was something admirable in her focus and discipline, and constant strive for perfection. 

That they had something in common.

That Yang had been wrong.

She hadn’t apologized to Weiss, a fact that nagged at her since she had promised Ruby she would, but her sister hadn’t mentioned it. Yang did, however, stop aggravating and teasing the heiress. Weiss, for her part, seemed to calm down a bit as she grew more comfortable with the team. While Yang thought she was still uptight, Weiss refrained from making snide comments when things didn’t go _exactly_ according to her wishes, or demanding everyone to fit _her_ schedule. The pair didn’t interact much, but they were able to be in the same room without Ruby or Blake to mediate and not break out into an argument, so Yang considered that progress.

Yang wrote up another text to Roman, asking him when the next job was, if he had anything for her. She stared at it for twenty minutes before deleting it.

Yang’s classes went well, for the most part. Professor Goodwitch’s remained her favourite by a mile, and what’s more is the professor seemed to _like_ Yang. Yang continued to show up early to the morning class, and they talked about the previous day’s lesson, or a sparring match that had caught her eye, or Yang’s assignments. Yang had been banned from using her custom highlighter-pen, but at some point she’d earned the right to call the professor by her first name, Glynda, and Yang thought she’d gotten the better deal.

Some of her other classes hadn’t quite gone so well. Like Doctor (not professor, important!) Oobleck’s history class. Yang understood the need to study history. Afterall, why bother relearning a lesson some chump in the past had died for? Except that Oobleck generally focused his lessons on a barrage of names, and dates, and locations and his tests rarely differentiated between the actually _important_ and the merely trivial. This resulted in hours lost in memorization of useless facts- facts that she could just look up on her Scroll if she ever _needed_ them for some strange reason- and only rarely did they delve into the _why_ of things.

Professor Port’s Grimm Study class was even worse. Sure, he usually had some insight into the dark creatures- some weakness, or behaviour to exploit, or effective (and not-so) techniques to employ… but those tidbits were lost in the grandioseness of his tales of personal victories. Even Weiss had to admit that his lectures were usually completely irrelevant to… well, everything. 

Yang was greatly looking forward to the upcoming field trip to the Forever Falls, though. Practical experience trumped all other kinds, in her opinion.

But then, one afternoon when classes were done, Roman called her. He had a job.

Working _with_ their new ‘friends’.

She was sure it was a bad idea, but she agreed. She wanted the experience.

That Saturday, Yang slipped out the dorm early. She left Ruby a note saying she was going shopping, and would probably be out all day. The others were still sleeping, but Yang thought that Blake had awoken and just not said anything. She showered, but covered her hair to keep it from getting wet, and left it unstyled other than a quick brush. She hated how tangled it still looked, how rough and coarse it seemed to her, how she felt so grungy and ugly.

Yang caught an early flight down to the city. There were a few other people onboard- some older students likely starting field assignments, if their bags and weapons were any indication. A few of the men gave her second glances, which she didn’t mind, but felt odd about with her hair in such a state and with no makeup on. Otherwise no one gave her much thought.

After disembarking, made her way to the pick-up/drop-off zone. She wasn’t waiting long before Roman pulled up, in the same car as the last time. In the grey early morning light, she could see it was an updated version of an old classic, in an off-white colour that matched his coat and with swooping red lines on either side that flew out into tail fins. Yang hopped in.

“Morning!” She greeted the man cheerfully.

He looked at her over the pair of sunglasses she recognized from her ‘interview’ with bleary eyes. “Ugh, don’t tell me you’re a _morning person_ ,” he groused. “That would just be… bad. It’d be bad. Yes.”

Yang laughed. She wasn’t an early riser naturally, but she had _made_ herself into one, as her hair’s needs had grown.

Roman grumbled as he pulled out. “Like a ray of sunshine, aren’t you… Why so _early_ , this job, that’s what I want to know, it’s a disgrace to- to crime! Is what this is… Whole point, whole reason I became a criminal, crime at _night time_ , sleep-in…”

Yang snickered. “Night owl, are you?”

He just shook his head sadly. “I need a coffee.” 

They hit up a drive-thru coffee shop. Roman (double cream, double sugar) offered her one, but Yang didn’t need it and didn’t like coffee anyway, so she asked for a bagel instead, having skipped breakfast again.

As they drove off, Yang munched on her bagel. “Sho, why sho- _umpf_ \- why so early, if you don’t like it?” She asked between bites.

“I got _overruled_ ,” Roman said sourly.

“But you’re the boss, right? Who-”

“ _Cinder_.”

That was Roman’s boss. Yang had never heard anything about her, which either made a lot of sense or none at all if she was a crime lord powerful enough to have both the White Fang _and_ Torchwick working for her.

Although Yang didn’t say anything, he seemed to sense her curiosity. “Don’t worry about her, Yang. Honestly, I shouldn’t even have mentioned her. Just forget you ever heard that name.”

Yang opened her mouth to protest, although she had no idea what she’d say. He cut her off. “ _Not_ because I don’t trust you- I do, Blondie, but because she’s _dangerous_.” The compliment softened his rebuke. “That Adam I told you about? Fang leader? He’s _nothing_ compared to her.”

He glanced at her, mirrored sunglasses flashing glares of light. “If she knew that _you_ knew about her- even just her name, even just that she _exists_... “ He let the implication sit.

Yang filled her mouth with the last bit of her bagel.

They drove towards the industrial district again. It was still early enough that there was little traffic, and it being the weekend meant there was less still.

“Alright, so… why did you and no one else and not someone who definitely doesn’t exist decide to uh, whatever it is we’re doing, so early?” Yang asked glibly.

Roman groaned, and drained the rest of his coffee. “Save me, blessed caffeine… Alright, since you asked, we’re robbing a Dust warehouse, with the critters doing manual labour. ‘Bout all they’re good for.”

Yang thought about asking him to stop… being so racist, but didn’t. Instead, she pointed at his cup, which Roman was in the process of throwing out the half-open window.

“What, you don’t want me to litter? Oh, right. It’s so early because something something, element of surprise, blah blah, most of the guards will be gone, _whatever_.”

Yang smirked and shook her head lightly at Roman’s exasperation. The logic made sense, she supposed, but she agreed with him. Doing crime in (near) daylight just seemed _wrong_ , somehow.

The streets were filled with more bustle than they had been at night. There wasn’t too much still, but trucks of all sorts of shapes and sizes made their way by. Roman pointed to one. “That’s one bit of the plan I do like- we’ll stow the goods on trucks like those, use them for cover.” Yang nodded in acknowledgement.

They pulled into the lot of the same warehouse from before. Yang recognized the beat-up pickup, but there were now several vans and rental trucks parked as well.

As they made their way inside, retreading their path through the office section, Yang worried a bit about how the Fang would treat her. She doubted they’d try something as stupid as attacking her, not after she trounced their leader, but… what? Was she worried they were going to call her mean names, or not sit with her during lunch? Yang scoffed. This wasn’t _middle school_. She didn’t care _what_ they thought about her, as long as they did their jobs.

Yang took a look around as they entered the warehouse proper. There was a decent sized group of Fang members already present, about a dozen or so. Most had the hoods and masks on, but a few were without. After seeing who had just entered, those few put the masks on in a huff, and Yang heard the low tones of conversation take a distinct sour note.

She didn’t see Mr. Chainsaw in the group, and was somewhat disappointed in herself for being relieved.

A middle-aged woman with floppy dog ears and chocolate brown eyes, the one member who hadn’t put on the mask or hood, walked forward to greet them. 

“Good morning, Mr. Torchwick. We’re just going over some last minute details”- Yang saw there was an easel with pictures and blueprints on it “-and then we’ll be ready to start.”

Roman pulled off his sunglasses, and doffed his hat. “Ah, good to hear, and a good morning to you, Miss…?” 

The Faunus woman smiled. “Flopsy. An… _ironic_ nickname,” she added, seeing Yang’s double-take, “but it’s a good one for a codename.”

Yang was somewhat surprised by Roman’s politeness towards… Flopsy. Was it because she was a woman, or because he’d figured he’d browbeat them into obedience enough already? Or because he didn’t want to sabotage the operation with resentment this early? Maybe she could ask him, later.

Flopsy looked at Yang. “Ah, if you don’t mind me saying… but your look _could_ attract some attention. There’s likely to be cameras, and certainly some guards or workers. Perhaps a disguise? That is, if you’re not aiming for _infamy_ , like Mr. Torchwick.”

Roman tapped his cane on the ground. “No, no. That’s a good idea,” he answered for Yang, and gestured at nearby Fang’s mask. “Got any spares?”

Which is how she found herself clad in a starched and itchy uniform, her hair uncomfortably tucked into the hood and down the back of the shirt. She stared out the mask’s awful double eye slits at several Fang members as they rode in the back of a rental van. There were no seats, so they had to awkwardly brace themselves against the wall, each other, or sit on the floor. Yang leaned against the van’s wall and did her best to look nonchalant. If the Fangs had any concern over a Human wearing their uniform, they didn’t show it. She wondered if any of this group had even been present for the fight.

She wished she was riding with Roman, but he was in a different vehicle as they made their way to the target location.

After a surprisingly short ride, the van pulled to a stop, and everyone piled out. Flopsy had given Yang a quick overview of the plan before they left, and she quickly rushed off. Yang made her way through the target warehouse’s yard. The Fang members, joined by a group from another van, also peeled off into twos and threes. One, carrying some sort of electronic device, moved with her.

Being a Saturday, the building wasn’t in full swing, but there were still a truck pulled up into a loading bay. Yang smirked when she saw the Schnee Dust Corp. logo on its side. She took cover next to the building’s corner, and the Fang member crouched next to her and peeked out. Yang took a glance too.

There- an Atlas security mech. Not one of the heavy duty military or police-grade models, but even this relatively light model built for private security was stronger and faster than the average person.

Not that that’d help against her.

The mech was moving away from her in a slow patrol. The Fang tapped her leg, and Yang understood the signal. She rushed forward. It barely had enough time to turn and begin to ‘speak’. 

“Halt. Identify-” 

Yang jumped forward, grabbing its head in both hands and let her momentum carry her forward, pulling the mech crashing into the ground, each of them on their backs. She’d gotten grounded for a month practicing that move on Ruby when Yang was twelve. Yang reacted faster to the landing, and flipped onto her stomach, grabbing the mech’s head again. She hated how the Fang uniform restricted her movements, how the mask blocked her vision.

The mech tried to right itself, but Yang’s grip prevented it from getting any leverage. Keeping her hold, Yang maneouvered into a sitting position. She placed one foot onto the mech’s shoulders and wrenched, pulling its head off with a screech. Yang winced at the sound. She looked towards the Fang, who had stayed by the corner with his device. He nodded, and moved away.

Mechs like this operated autonomously, but were linked to each other and to a central server, in order to report… well, exactly this situation. However, the Fang had somehow managed to build or obtain several devices that would jam (or spoof? She wasn’t sure) the mech’s signal, allowing them to be taken out without sounding the alarm. That was also how they planned to deal with the few cameras positioned around and inside the building- block the alarm signal, and then even if someone reviewed the footage it’d just show masked and hooded Fang operatives, too late to do anything about it.

She followed the Fang member into the warehouse, leaving the mech’s headless form lying on the ground. They had been around the back and it wasn’t in sight of the street, so Yang didn’t worry about it.

The bulk of the group had already entered. It was a large building, filled with racks of crates. There didn’t seem to be much order to it. Yang saw that they’d taken the workers hostage, binding their hands with zip-ties and covering their heads with hoods. None of them looked injured though, which Yang appreciated. She didn’t personally care about them, or have any ethical concern about hurting them, not really, but she didn’t like violence against the untrained, against civilians. It was… messy. Made things complicated.

She noticed that two of the hostages were kept away from the others, and while their hands were still bound, they were unhooded, with animal ears visible. A Fang member was talking to them, and they seemed to be listening attentively. Recruitment? Or was it favouritism? Yang wouldn’t begrudge them if it was.

There had been three mechs guarding the building, and three teams assigned to take them out. The second team came in- only two people, with one of them carrying another jammer. Yang recognized the second member of the pair from the night she’d fought the lieutenant, the girl with the misshapen hood. Yang quirked her head. If she could take out a mech solo, she _had_ to have an unlocked Aura. Interesting. The girl scurried off somewhere.

The third team came in. Four members- three fighters and one jammer. One was limping heavily and had to be supported, while another was cradling what looked like a broken wrist. Yang snorted.

Their three vans and trucks pulled up to the empty loading bays. Yang took position by one, and each of the others had two Fang loaders. With her enhanced strength, she could set a fast pace loading up the goods by herself, freeing up another Fang to loot the warehouse or stand guard.

Roman hopped out of a truck’s driver’s side door and clambered up the loading bay. He nodded at Yang, but didn’t say anything, simply taking up an observational position.

The Fang started bringing up crates. It was slow going though- Roman vetted each crate they brought up before it was loaded, looking for the best Dust for their effort. While any kind of Dust was valuable or dangerous under the right circumstances, certain kinds were far more so. Space on their vehicles was limited and the warehouse held far more than they could possibly carry, so Roman was trying to maximize the gains from this heist. He seemed to be getting frustrated, as he turned down most of what was brought to him.

“Useless…” he muttered. “Bunch of idiots. Don’t they know _anything_? They’re giving me _garbage_.”

He glanced at Yang as she finished loading up one of the few crates he had given the go-ahead.

“Hey, Blondie. You been paying attention in class? Know your Dust?” Roman asked her, in a low voice.

Yang nodded. She had, and she did. Roman gestured with his cane, and Yang went.

She was a blur, cracking crates open and pointing out their contents or telling the Fang to take the whole crate. The Fang seemed to accept her directions without complaint, grabbing the goods she picked out. They set a much faster pace. Yang glanced over at the loading bays and saw their trucks were rapidly filling up, and that Roman had only turned away a few of the crates Yang sent over.

Yang vowed to do better. She tried to get into Roman’s head, to figure out exactly _what_ he wanted. He’d turned down rare or expensive Dust, so he wasn’t after simple monetary gains. Yang thought she’d figured out what he was after and started picking out combat-focused Dust: best for close combat, best for ranged, most explosive...

She didn’t think about _why_ Roman would want any of this. What the goal was. She could do that later. For now Yang focused on her work. She tried to keep up a rough running tally of the value of what she’d marked off. Thousands of Lien. Tens of thousands, maybe. She didn’t let that distract her, or waste energy trying to justify the theft to herself. She didn’t need to. If she _could_ do something, if whoever she was doing it to couldn’t stop her- that was its own justification. 

Yang had barely searched through half of the warehouse when Roman yelled out. “Alright people, that’s enough! Time to go!”

The loaders made a few last adjustments before closing the truck doors, and two of them started to pull out. With the vehicles full of Dust, there was no room for Yang or most of the Fang agents. The Fang ran off on foot in small groups, leaving behind the warehouse workers, following some plan that Yang didn’t know. Was she supposed to follow them? 

Yang _had_ to stop doing this- just going along with Roman, not knowing exactly what she’d be doing or where she’d be going or how she’d be getting home.

As if in response, Roman called to her. “Hey, Blondie, you coming, or what?”

She half-jogged to him, and they hopped into the driver’s cab of the last truck, Yang in the passenger seat. She pulled off the mask and freed her hair from the hood as they pulled into the street.

“Securities getting tighter, and after today’s job? We’re not going to get another chance like this. But you helped make the most of it, Yang,” Roman said. 

She smiled at the compliment. “Just doing my job, boss.”

Roman smirked. “Well, that’s why I hired you, I suppose.”

He pulled the truck into the lot of the Fang’s warehouse, bringing it around back where she saw the other two trucks. They hopped out. Roman went to talk to Flopsy about something, while Yang went into a washroom to strip off the Fang uniform, leaving her in just a pair of black bike shorts and a dark orange crop top (her usual yellow one was in the wash). Yang had stashed her jacket and half-skirt in Roman’s car before they left. Despite the fact that they didn’t cover _that_ much more of her, she felt strangely underdressed without them.

Yang met back up with Roman. “Alright, we’re done here,” he said. 

Yang was feeling pretty bold, after taking charge on the heist, so she asked, “When do I get my cut? You know how expensive textbooks are.”

Roman laughed. “Don’t worry, you’ll get it! Actually, I got you a little present, too. A bonus for your performance last time. It’s in the car.”

“Uh, thanks,” Yang said, surprised. She must not have seen whatever it was- or maybe it was just in the trunk.

“Do you need to get back, or do you have some time?” Roman asked, as they started to leave.

She shook her head. “No, I’m free.” It was still early in the morning- not quite ten.

He nodded. “It’s a nice day, so I’m thinking… ice cream?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's up a bit later than I usually aim for, sorry.
> 
> In other, completely unrelated new, I beat Fire Emblem conquest!


	8. Chapter Five Part Two

_Is this… a date?_

It certainly seemed like it _could_ be considered one. Roman and Yang were seated a very small booth at a very small, very fancy parlour. So fancy it didn’t even have a _name_ . Or any other customers. Or any staff. Mostly. There had been a waiter, but he hadn’t actually taken their order, he’d just appeared with bearing their treats and then disappeared without saying a word. The waiter had also been very fancy, and very good looking, with perfectly coiffed hair. If he cared that a known criminal was in his shop, he didn’t let it show, and Roman didn’t seem concerned.

The waiter had appeared seemingly holding a small flame floating above his hand, the room’s dim lighting amplifying the effect, before presenting it to her, and Yang had realized it was actually a bowl with a scoop of ice cream with a flaming sugar cube on top. After a minute or so, the cube had melted and the fire gone out, yet the ice cream beneath was untouched.

She was very impressed.

Yang glanced at Roman, and saw that he hadn’t started on his yet, having waited on her. He smiled. “Well, aren’t you going to try it, Yang?”

She started, and quickly popped a small scoop into her mouth. It was… good. Really good. The ice cream itself was vanilla, but there was a slight hot kick of cinnamon, and Yang thought she tasted the tang of alcohol as well. Yang didn’t know how whoever made the ice-cream had chosen it for her, but she loved it. She took another scoop and savoured the flavour.

Yang looked at Roman, who was enjoying his very pink ice cream.

“This is great,” Yang said. “Here, you try a bit.” She pushed her bowl towards him, with her spoon resting inside. 

“If you insist,” Roman acquiesced, and took a small amount on his own spoon. Yang was very confused by her sudden disappointment that he hadn’t used _her_ spoon.

Roman swallowed. “You’re right. That was quite good. I like the mix of sweet and heat. Just like you.”

Yang blushed. She was used to flirting with guys, but that was mostly just Yang tossing her hair, or leaning forward, no matter their position relative to her, and them drooling. She wasn’t used to guys flirting back.

 _Or a_ man _flirting back…_

Which brought her back to the question- was this a date? Or maybe more importantly, did she want it to be? Yang tried to be objective, to weigh the pros and cons. 

Roman was several years older than her. She didn’t know exactly how old, but there was certainly quite a gap. She wasn’t sure if that was a downside. The idea of being _romanced_ by someone mature, by a man who could talk to her without staring at her breasts… it was a nice thought to Yang.

But he was her boss- getting involved would make things complicated. Probably. That was part of why she’d quit working for Junior and made sure her resignation was painful and humiliating for him. He’d wanted more. Wanted too much. Was she okay with Roman wanting, too?

Moreover... he was a wanted crime lord. Yes, Yang was a criminal now too, not wanted one though, but… she didn’t know.

On the other hand, Roman was very good looking. Not what she usually went for, in men, but still. He more than took care of himself, and she appreciated that. He was rich. He had good taste. He was knowledgeable. He was nice. He gave her a chance, and an opportunity.

Roman pushed his bowl towards her. “Only fair.”

Using her own spoon, Yang took a bite. Chocolate-cherry, sprinkled with sugar candies that fizzed and popped in her mouth like sparklers. It seemed almost… childish, but she decided the sensation was a fitting one.

“It’s great,” Yang said, swallowing past an odd lump in her throat, and passed the bowl back. They finished in silence. Despite eating slowly, there wasn’t much and they finished quickly. Yang wondered how much the small bowl had cost. With deductive reasoning, she figured a lot.

After a moment, Roman reached over next to him to grab the package he’d taken out from his car’s trunk and brought inside. He offered it to her. “Right, before I forget- here’s your bonus, from last time.”

Yang took it. The package was medium-sized and fairly flat. It didn’t have any markings, but it was constructed from a high-quality material. Solid, yet smooth to her touch. She popped the lid off.

Neatly folded up inside was a jacket. A _nice_ jacket. It was double-breasted and cream in colour with black piping. The most intriguing aspect were the sleeves and the high collar- they were made of black leather and made for a striking contrast to the rest. Yang took the jacket out to get a better look, and found that the black section was actually a separate piece, made to fit perfectly over the rest. The sleeves were fairly short, ending just beyond elbow level, but they ended in wide cuffs, shiny and golden that matched her hair.

She loved it.

Yang looked at Roman. “This is- this is amazing! I’ll have to do- do some accessorizing, this is _way_ too nice for my usual stuff…” She owned a skirt that’d be a perfect match, and there was a pair of boots she’d had her eye on. Expensive boots, at an upscale shop she’d entered but never bought anything from…

“How much did-?” Yang started to ask, but Roman cut her off. “That’s not important. You more than earned it, Yang. I’m glad you like it, though.”

He paused, and seemed somewhat unsure. “Hey, uh, do you think it’ll fit? I’ve got an eye for detail, but I was kind of guessing…”

Simple problem, simple solution. Yang stood, and started taking off her usual brown jacket. She paused for a moment before finishing the moment, suddenly unsure of herself. It wasn’t being less covered- she’d been in just a tanktop and short shorts before him just a while ago, and her jacket didn’t cover all _that_ much… But it seemed strange, to be undressing, in a way, in front of him. For him.

Yang decided she didn’t care. It _was_ just a jacket. Outerwear. Roman had taken his off when they sat. She put the new one on. It was low-cut, but no more so than her usual one. Maybe a little higher, even. Was this a comment from Roman, or… Or was he just matching her usual style? The jacket almost _did_ seem like a merger of their styles. She liked that idea.

It fit perfectly, too.

Was this how a relationship with Roman would be? Expensive gifts, fancy dates? She liked that idea, too, but not really. She knew how those kinds of gifts were ‘earned’. The kind of repayment rich suitors expected for their kindness, or thought she knew. But Roman had said it was a bonus for doing her job-

A girl slid into the booth next to Roman, and leaned up to give him a swift peck on the cheek.

“Neo! Glad you could make it.” Roman’s delight was obvious, even as Yang’s stomach dropped out.

“Yang, this is Neo. We go way back. Neo, this is Yang. I think I mentioned her before?” Roman introduced them.

Neo stretched her gloved hand out across the table, and Yang reluctantly shook it. The first thing Yang noticed about her was her hair, somewhat to Yang’s surprise. The left half was a dark, chocolatey brown, while the right was a shock of bright pink, with light streaks.

Neo was also short- very short. Yang thought she might be smaller than Ruby, and Neo had to stand and lean forward to reach. How old was she? She looked young, but in the same way that Roman did. He’d said they went way back, so maybe...

Roman gestured. “Neo was out on a job, too. When she does good, I like to take her here for a treat,” he said playfully. Neo gave a wry smile and elbowed him in the ribs lightly.

Yang decided she wasn’t jealous- that she _refused_ to be jealous. Not when Yang hadn’t even figured out if she actually wanted to date Roman. She wouldn’t let herself feel that way. Not when Roman had just indirectly complimented Yang.

The waiter appeared again, bearing a tray. He set two tall drinking glasses filled with white liquid in front of Yang and Roman, and then a large bowl of otherwise normal neapolitan ice cream in front of… Neo. Yang suddenly liked the girl a lot more. Roman watched the waiter leave.

“Neo doesn’t say much,” Roman said, even as Neo dug in. “You know the saying, though. ‘If you have nothing nice to say…’”

Neo didn’t stop eating, but she smiled at Yang around her spoon, and rolled her eyes. Yang saw they were also pink, matching her hair. Neo winked at Yang, and when she opened her eye, it was now brown, the other remaining unchanged.

 _Oh, that’s… that’s interesting._

Yang sipped her drink. Vanilla float, with something deliciously creamy and alcoholic. It was good, but she didn’t know how much was in it, or had been in her ice cream, or how strong they were, so she drank slowly.

 _Don’t really know my limits yet, either._

“So, have a good time today, Yang?” Roman asked.

“Like, with the uh, with work? Or now, with the ice cream?”

“Either. Both.”

Yang had enjoyed her day very much. Working with the White Fang had been a novel experience, but more importantly she’d gotten a chance to prove her skills to Roman. And the date after… being with Roman had been nice. Even if it wasn’t really a date. Yang sighed.

“Yeah. It’s all been fantastic. Although…” Yang hesitated, but carried on. “There’s one thing I’d wish you’d do.”

“Anything.”

“I want to know more about what we’re doing, a bit more in advance. I mean, don’t get me wrong, but both jobs so far you’ve just kind of picked me up and told me the bare minimum when we get there,” Yang explained.

Roman seemed to be considering this, although Neo was loudly scraping her bowl, trying to get the last traces of ice cream.

Yang continued on. She didn’t want to make the wrong impression. “I don’t want you to think- that I can’t handle it, or something. Or that I don’t trust you. It’s just…”

Roman nodded. “No, you’re right. It’s not really fair to you. Now, _fairness_ is an odd concept in our line of work, but _I_ , at least, think it’s important to treat the people working for you right. Not like _some_ others I could mention…” he trailed off darkly. Neo patted his arm in a conciliatory way, but she gave Yang a wry look that suggested it was more to mollify hurt feelings than out of any agreement with a legitimate grievance.

“Is that about _your_ boss…?” Yang ventured.

Roman frowned. “What’d I say about mentioning her? Ah, oh well. _Yes_ . It is. Her crazy plans are going to be the death of me.”

Neo flicked her hand and bobbed her head and changed her eye colours in a way that Yang thought meant that Cinder was just a little mean to him and he was being overdramatic and Cinder was actually very nice.

Yang realized that Neo was very good at emoting.

“Then why do you work for her? What could she offer that’d be worth it?” Yang asked. For some reason she thought she’d rather believe Roman’s version of things than Neo’s.

“Well, that’s just it. It’s not about”-Roman’s gaze flicked to Neo-”what I have to _gain_. But enough about that. Back to what you said.”

He leaned forward. “Alright. Any future jobs, you’ll know more, and not just a bit in advance. I won’t keep you in the dark. I think you’ve earned that trust from me. 

“And I’m thinking…” Roman continued. “Maybe you can take the lead on some projects of your own, huh? Nothing real big, we don’t want you in trouble, but you’ve got to have some ideas, right?”

Yang was taken aback at being put on the spot. She _did_ have an idea, but compared to stealing tens of thousands of Lien worth of Dust it was nothing. Probably not even illegal. 

“Come on,” Roman drawled. Neo’s legs rubbed against Yang’s underneath the table.

“Alright, alright, I had this idea- it’s really not even anything, probably I could do it on my own,” Yang said uncertainly. “But, well, at the school there’s a lot of products you can’t get, or you’d have to go into town to get. Like… shampoo.” Not the best example.

_Just can’t stop thinking about my hair, can I? Damn it._

Roman picked up on what she was getting at, though. “So you want to set yourself up as a little, ah, student run concierge? Some shop and mercantile? Nothing wrong with that.” He smiled. “An honest business venture is what that is. You’re right, you can handle that. I know I did, back when I was at Beacon.” 

Neo gave her a thumbs up.

Yang was feeling much better about her idea. “Yeah. I can get most of the stuff I had in mind on my own. Most of it you just can’t get at Beacon, is all. Some of it-”

“Would get you a slap on the wrist, but nothing more,” Roman finished.

“Exactly. Not illegal, just not something the school wants us to have. I know you said not to get in trouble, but…”

Roman laughed. “Getting a detention is not getting in trouble, Yang.”

“I know, right? Some people act like it’s the end of the world.” Yang drummed her fingers. “But maybe… maybe I could? Bring in some stuff that _would_ get me in trouble.”

She fixed Roman’s gaze with her own. “I can handle it.”

“Alright. I believe it. It’s a deal. Send me a list of what you want, and how much. I’ll get it to you, maybe when you do your other shopping?” Roman brought his hand to his lips in an odd gesture. It took Yang a moment to realize he was instinctively pantomiming smoking. “I’m thinking that you cover my costs, and keep the markup.”

Yang’s eyes widened. He was letting her keep all the profit? There had to be some downside to the arrangement, some hidden catch. Did Beacon offer business classes? Or maybe Weiss would know…

Or maybe Yang needed to trust Roman, like he trusted her.

She put her hand out. “Deal, partner.” Roman laughed and shook her hand.

“Speaking of profits.” Roman reached into his coat pocket and pulled something out. He handed it to Yang and she saw it was a massive wad paper Lien bills. She thumbed through- the bills were hundreds. She had thousands of Lien in her hand- maybe tens of thousands. It was the kind of money she’d _dreamed_ about having. And it all fit in her hand.

“What- what?” 

“It’s your pay, for today. Don’t spend it all in one place,” Roman said. He didn’t comment on Yang’s awe.

“I- but! Sell?” Yang stammered.

Roman chuckled. “The Dust we stole today isn’t going to be resold, so this isn’t a cut of the profits. Still though, this is your pay. If you don’t want it, I’m sure there’s some needy Faunus who’d appreciate it…”

“No!” Yang clutched the bills to her chest, and Roman laughed. Neo smiled, a big bright grin that Yang thought she wanted to see more of. Yang knew _exactly_ what she wanted.

They sat and chatted about nothing as they finished their drinks. Neo didn’t say anything but still took part in the conversation, somehow making her thoughts known. In the rare case that Yang couldn’t figure out what she meant, Roman acted as her interpreter, conveying her message with a casual familiarity that made Yang want to close her eyes and never look away. She felt silly, and loose, and off-balance, and good. She saw how Neo’s half-jacket matched Roman’s, but with pink highlights instead of orange.

“Hey, so uh, if you don’t mind me asking,” Yang tried to convey indifference, but she was a bad liar, “but are you two, you know, together? Like, _together_ ?” She regretted the question immediately.

Roman and Neo looked at each other, baffled amusement on their faces. They burst out laughing, in hearty guffaws and silent breathy snickers. Yang’s face burned in embarrassment, and she regretted every decision that had led her to this point.

“No, no,” Roman wheezed. Neo wiped tears from her eyes, and Yang sank down into her seat. “We’re, ah, _very_ much not to each other’s tastes.”

_Now what in Remnant does_ that _mean?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a terrific trio. 
> 
> I kind of noticed a pattern in the story so far- Yang does a job with Roman, then a talky chapter to wind down. Not the biggest deal and the future's going to break the pattern, just thought it was funny.
> 
> Hopefully I conveyed Yang's feelings right. She's a confident gal, but also kind of inexperienced I think? At least in actual relationships. Especially one where she's not the person in control.
> 
> The fancy psychic tailored ice cream was inspired by the exclusive bar in Brooklyn 99's 'Det. Dave Major' episode.
> 
> Hard to believe it's been over a month since I started writing this and just shy of 25k words -_-


	9. Chapter Six

“-and it was then that I smote the beast upon its cantankerous maw, driving it backwards! But I had not a moment’s respite, for one of its pack brothers snarled and leapt! But I was not taken off guard, you see, and hefted my blunder-axe to-”

Yang tuned out Professor Port’s grandiose drivel. There were only so many ways one could say, ‘and then I killed a Beowulf’, and the man had covered them all three times over this class alone. She blatantly ignored him and focused on her Scroll.

Browsing through an online listing of motorcycles for sale, Yang winced. Even with the massive windfall Roman had given her, the expensive ones were out of her reach- even most of the mid range, as well, if she wanted to have any Lien left over. Yang considered some of the cheaper ones. They were new, and still very nice, but not quite what she was looking for. She _did_ have some mechanical skill though- she’d built Ember Celica- so Yang figured she could probably mod a bike to be more suited to her wishes. It’d be a good skill to work on. And a new paint job wouldn’t go amiss, although when would she find the time?

Her Scroll buzzed with an incoming text, and she checked the sender.

Neo.

Yang scrunched her face in surprise. She hadn’t given multi-coloured girl her number, and Neo hadn’t volunteered her own, and yet the contact was saved as Neo, and even had a picture of her flashing a peace sign.

_How? ...When?_

Yang opened the message.

[I’M BORED.]

[ENTERTAIN ME.]

Yang bit back a snort laugh and checked on Port. Still blathering.

[heyyyyyyyy! sure i can talk]

[tho not 2 be rude but howd u get my #?]

[did R give u it?]

[r? DO YOU MEAN ROMAN?]

[ROMAN TORCHWICK?]

[THE CRIMINAL YOU WORK FOR, YANG XIAO-LONG?]

Yang flinched and covered her phone. She _discreetly_ checked her surroundings. Blake to her left, not-so-subtly focused on some trashy romance novel. Weiss to _her_ left, pencil pressed to paper but not moving, a slack look upon her face. Ruby beyond her, furiously doodling some scribble. Jaune Arc to Yang’s right, head down, obviously asleep. Pyrrha to his right, swapping notes with Nora.

Yang had had her phone down low, so whoever was sitting behind her wouldn’t have been able to see it.

Still though!

[hey!]

[not cool!!!!!!!!!!!!]

[couldd of got me in truble!]

[HAHAHAHAHAHA!]

 

[isnt it bad? 2 say stuf like tht on scroll]

[ROMAN THINKS SO.]

[BUT I THINK WHO CARES.]

[ ;p ]

[ARE YOU IN CLASS?]

[jerk]

[yeah im in ports class]

[BORING.]

[i kno! but srsly how? thers evn a pic of u]

[YOU LIKE?]

[ ;p :P ;p ]

[I HAVE MY WAYS.]

[ALSO: ugh PORT. THE worst.]

[i knowwww right????]

They texted back and forth for the rest of the class, starting with the topic of Professor Port before moving onto other subjects. Yang told her about the recent trip to the Forever Falls, and how some idiots had spilled red sap on themselves and attracted an Ursa.

(Yang didn’t mention that she’d gained some respect for Jaune, for standing up for himself so decisively.)

Neo asked how her ‘little project’ was doing. Hard to tell, since it’d only been a little more than a week, but Yang thought it was going well. She’d made a few sales- mostly just various knick-knacks or beauty products to the female members of Team Juniper and Team Coffee, and only covering her costs, but they’d spread the word and some other people in her year had looked Yang up. She’d made sure that everyone knew she had a vague stock other than beauty and hygiene, although no one had asked about that yet.

Strangely, she and Weiss had bonded over Yang’s efforts. Weiss had called Yang’s strategy ‘penetrative pricing’. Yang had held herself back from making an innuendo, only to be floored when _Weiss_ made one instead (although she’d delivered it weakly and awkwardly). Yang didn’t tell Weiss about the ‘other’ products she had, not wanting to sabotage their shaky new friendship.

Or get in trouble. That too.

[I’M HITTING UP A DUST SHOP TONIGHT.]

[WANT IN?]

Class was drawing to a close, and students were starting to pack up their bags and shift restlessly, even though Port hadn’t stopped talking.

Yang was tempted by Neo’s offer, but it was only Thursday- she didn’t want to be up all night, not when she had combat class with Glynda in the morning, and she _did_ have some homework and studying to do.

[srry but i cant]

[school n all u kno how it is]

[AWWW.]

[OH WELL, SEE YOU AROUND.]

[<3]

[byeeeeeee]

Yang didn’t know quite what to think of Neo. They got along, and ‘talking’ with her was easy- easier than with Roman, even. She got along with the man quite well, but there was something… like they could be work-friends, but never friend-friends, or _more_. Was it just that he was her direct employer? Whatever it was, it wasn’t there with Neo.

She’d only seen Roman once since the ‘date’, for a few minutes while she got the supplies for her shop. The separation had given her enough time to cool down and admit to herself that yes, she had a crush on him, but also that it wasn’t a good idea. Probably. It was hard for her to sort out what she was _feeling_ from what she was _thinking_ regarding Roman, in either direction.

Class _finally_ ended, and Yang sighed as she stood. She’d been in a good mood after texting with Neo, but now she’d gotten herself all worked up.

She needed a smoke.

It was lunch time, and as the combined mass of Team Ruby and Team Juniper made their way to the cafeteria, Yang slipped out with some vague excuse about needing to forget her bathroom back in the dorms.

It was cold and blustery and drizzling slightly outside, and Yang cursed the chilly Autumn weather, and Roman, and herself. Sure, the forecast for tomorrow called for warmth and sun, but that didn’t help her _today_. She made her way to an isolated corner that she sometimes shared with Beacon’s few other smokers, which was mostly sheltered from the wind. Luckily, no one else was there at the moment.

The cold didn’t bother her, not the way she remembered it had when she was a child, not with her Semblance, but the experience still wasn’t pleasant, in her uniform's short skirt and light jacket. She’d just taken a hit when she felt a presence next to her.

“Seriously, Yang?”

She whirled, and saw Blake standing there, a judging expression in her golden eyes.

Yang groaned. “Ah, shi- crap. You got me. Yeah, I know, it’s a filthy habit. Don’t tell Ruby.”

Blake smirked. “I guess we both have something on each other, now.” Yang considered it a sign of progress, of sorts, that Blake was willing to joke about her secret nature.

“Keep me company?” Yang gestured next to herself. “Or… you want one?”

“I’ll pass on the cancer-stick, thanks.” But Blake moved next to her, on the side upwind of Yang. Their arms and shoulders brushed against each other.

_No second-hand smoke for Blake, less wind for me. Win-win._

“How’d you sneak up on me like that? It’s not a cah-” Yang interrupted herself with a few coughs. “Er- you know what I mean. Oh, and why'd you follow me, too.”

Blake shook her head, though she didn’t seem put off. “I followed you because I was curious where you were always sneaking off to. Don’t look at me like that, you’re pretty obvious. And no, _that’s_ not how. I had some… it’s something I picked up, in the past.”

_In the White Fang, you mean…_

But Yang didn’t know that.

“Who were you texting all class?” Blake asked.

Yang shrugged. “Just a friend.”

Blake didn’t challenge that answer, but Yang thought her little hum of acceptance wasn’t completely convinced. They both let it drop.

This was how it always seemed to go with Blake. They traded little bits of information, while dancing around the secrets they both held. Of course, Blake didn’t realize that Yang even had a secret, or so Yang thought, and that Yang already knew hers, or so Yang thought.

Blake was always just so quiet and reserved, a stark contrast to Yang’s loud and bombastic nature. In group settings, Blake would fade away into the background. When it was just the two of them, either Yang had to take charge with empty noise, or they’d fall into silence.

Yang told herself it was the companionable sort, not the awkward kind, at least.

The cigarette had nearly burnt down when Blake spoke up, surprising Yang. “Weiss wants us all to go into Vale tomorrow afternoon, after class. Something about the Festival. Do you want to come?” She said, her voice near monotone.

Yang though for a moment. “Sure. Hopefully the weather forecast is right…” she trailed off, distracted.

Team Coffee made their way across the yard. Coco pressing her fashionable beret tight against the wind. Fox following her, seemingly not minding the wind or rain. Yatsuhashi using his massive form to shield Velvet, who had her school jacket off and pressed over her eared head as a makeshift raincoat.

Yang dropped her cigarette bum, mouth agape.

Blake looked at her in concern. "Uh, are you alright, Yang? What are you looking at?"

She knew that silhouette. It was her. Velvet was a White Fang agent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brought to you by the rich text editor.
> 
> Pretty low-key chapter, but it's setting up a lot of stuff.
> 
> Looking ahead, RWBY's timeline is kind of a mess in some places, isn't it?


	10. Fire Without Fuel

“I don’t know how you do it, Weiss,” Yang sighed wearily.

Weiss interrupted her muttered stream of invectives and epithets to glare at Yang.

“Do _what_ , exactly?” She spat.

Yang was too tired for this. For her. “Just… spend so much energy on hate. It’s gotta be exhausting.”

“Well, when they _deserve_ it…” Weiss grumbled, but Yang could tell she was waning as well.

They’d been searching for Blake all day, and well into the night, and Yang had been too worried about everything to sleep the night before, and she had about _had_ it with Weiss, and her racism, and her bitchiness, and the way her stupid hair _flounced_ around when she walked…

Yang didn’t want to be with her, no, she had much more important things to deal with than _babysitting_ \- like finding her now confirmed ex-Fang teammate, or dealing with the _other_ Faunus terrorist at Beacon. But she couldn’t leave Weiss alone, because what if _Weiss_ was the first one to find Blake?

They’d never see her again.

So Yang had to keep an eye on the princess, and try to calm her down. She really regretted leaving Ruby with that strange girl they’d bumped into, but she had _seemed_ like the worse option at the time… hindsight was a bitch.

“So you think Blake deserves it? Being hated?” Yang asked as they turned a corner, side by side. She didn’t waste any emotion on the question. Just gathering information.

Weiss was silent for a long moment. “I… you heard her. She was in the White Fang. She’s a terrorist!”

“And _you_ heard her, too. _Was_ ,” Yang replied. “Not anymore.”

Weiss sighed. “We… we don’t know that. She could have been trying to get our trust.”

_You don’t. I do._

“Gain our trust to do _what_? Kidnap you? Kill you?”

Weiss didn’t respond, but she stopped walking. Yang turned to face her.

“Weiss, Blake didn’t need your _trust_ if that’s what she was after, she just needed a moment where your guard was down,” Yang said. “She had that the very first night, had it every night since, every sparring match- even during initiation. If she wanted you dead you’d _be_ dead.”

Weiss still didn’t say anything, but she made a tiny little nod, conceding the point. She didn’t meet Yang’s eyes. Yang thought that Weiss was just putting up a token resistance- that she _wanted_ to be convinced.

Yang thought for a moment, as well. Why _had_ Blake left the Fang? What did Yang actually _know_ about her partner? She hated to admit it, but not all that much. Yang ran her hand through her hair and sighed. Yang didn’t know that much, but she knew some things, and her best strategy was probably to bring Weiss up to speed. Mostly.

“Weiss… I knew that Blake was a Faunus.”

“You knew!? Since when?! She told you? Were you going to _tell_ us-”

Yang cut her off. “I knew for sure about her being a Faunus, but not about her being in the White Fang, if you were worried about that.” Weiss hadn’t asked but Yang thought it worth pointing out. And she _technically_ hadn’t lied, either. “She didn’t tell me, but I... sort of smacked her ears. Her second set, I mean, under the bow.”

“Only you, Yang…” Weiss muttered.

Yang smirked. “Yeah, yeah… but the thing is, Blake… she wasn’t trying to trick anyone. She wanted to tell us, but she’s _terrified_. That people will hate her, or attack her, like they do with Vel-Velvet. When I found out, not even about the Fang, just about her being Faunus, Blake was going to _leave_. Quit Beacon. Run away, just like she is now. You said earlier that the innocent never run- but the _hunted_ do. She's been hurt in the past, and doesn't want to be hurt again. I had to beg her to stay. To give us a chance.

“To give _you_ a chance.”

Weiss looked at her at her feet, lost in thought. Eventually, she asked, “What about… what about the Fang?”

Yang shrugged. “I don’t know. But the Fang _now_ are different than they used to be, right? They used to stand for peace, didn’t they?”

Weiss nodded. “But now they’re… murderers, and thieves.”

“But do you think Blake is either one of those? That she’s a murderer, or a thief?” Yang asked. Weiss shook her head softly.

_The thief’s standing in front of you, anyway…_

Yang looked around the empty street. The pair were cast into shadowed yellow light by the overhead lamp, but they were alone.

“I can’t pretend to speak for Blake,” Yang said, “but if I had to… I’d say that Blake wants peace, real peace, between Humans and Faunus, and joined when that was what the Fang wanted, too. But they changed, so she left.

“You can’t hold her responsible for the actions of an entire organization, can you? She’s only seventeen, the Fang's actions aren't hers…” Yang paraphrased what Blake had said about Weiss, even as she realized that Blake had been talking about herself. “It’d be like holding you responsible for everything the SDC does. Would that be fair, Weiss?”

Weiss took a moment before she croaked out, “No… no, that wouldn’t be fair.” She still didn’t meet Yang’s eyes.

“The thing is, Weiss,” Yang continued, “Blake doesn’t hate you. I mean, you have to admit that the Schnees have done a _lot_ of bad things to the Faunus, right? Don’t- don’t try to justify it, just- they have reason to hate you, you understand that, right?”

Weiss sighed, and hugged herself. “Well, that may be so, but I have… I have reason to hate _them_ , too.”

Yang shook her head. “You’re comparing the systematic oppression of an entire _people_ ”-Yang had done her reading-”to a ‘bit of a rough childhood’?"

Weiss’ head snapped up at that remark, her eyes cold. “I’ve lost _family_!”

Yang took in Weiss’ eyes- took in what _marred_ them.

“Okay. Alright...” Yang frowned, and looked away. “I’m sorry.”

She looked back. Weiss softened her gaze, and went back to looking at the ground.

Yang sighed, again. “It’s just- you’ve lost family. But so has Blake,” Yang assumed. “There’s a lot of bad blood between the Schnees and the Fang. Between the Schnees and the _Faunus,_ in general.

“Thing is, though, Blake didn’t hate you. She told me that, that she hated what the Schnees have done to her people, but not _you_. I believe her. She didn’t hold you responsible”-Weiss let out a tiny gasp at that-”and I guess, maybe she thought there was a tiny chance at… peace?

“At making things better. That the two of you could be friends. But, you proved her wrong, Weiss. I hope you’re okay with that.”

Weiss was silent for a long moment. Eventually, she slowly raised her head, her eyes seeking out Yang’s, brimming with tears.

“No,” she sobbed. “I’m not.”

Yang stepped forward and took Weiss into her embrace, in the way she’d held Ruby since they were children and the way no one had held Yang in just as long.

Weiss sobbed into Yang’s chest, her hands working the fabric of Yang’s shirt.

Yang stared off into the dark night.

It was just the same. A flickering refrain through the years.

Her eyes itched, but she didn’t rub them.

They stood together, silent except for Weiss’ gasping hitches. Yang looked up, searching for the stars, but they were dark, outshone by the city below.

Yang wondered what that would be like, to burn so bright that you deaden the night.

But that wasn’t who she was. That fire had extinguished itself in her, long ago. Now all that was left were the smoldering embers, still burning, growing hotter and fiercer, a ravenous fever trapped under the refuse of her skin.

One day Yang will let it out. One day she’ll burn, a flame that devours everything that tries to put her out. Not bright, but hot and hungry and eternal. The burning edge of a blade, continuously reforging itself to be ever sharper.

But not yet.

Weiss calms, and catches her breath. She releases Yang’s shirt, and Yang releases her in turn. Weiss steps back and turns away, pulling some dainty kerchief out of a hidden pocket and dabbing at her face.

Yang watches the back of her head, unblinking.

Weiss puts the kerchief away, and half turns back, still not meeting Yang’s gaze. “It _is_ exhausting. Carrying all that hate. I came to Beacon, to Vale, to- to escape. Escape my father. His legacy. Of hate.” She speaks quietly. Yang can barely hear her.

“But I just carried it with me, didn’t I? I can’t escape my name. Can’t escape…” Weiss puts her hand to her rapier’s hilt, then draws back as if stabbed. “I want to change… But the worst part is, I can’t tell what. What I need to change. What I need to become. Can’t tell what’s _Weiss_ , and what’s _Schnee_.”

“I don’t want to hate, but I do, and I don’t want to be wrong.”

Weiss takes a step away, but turns to face Yang fully. She raises her head and looks Yang in eyes, finally, but at that distance all colour is lost in the lamp’s sickly artificial yellow. Deadened by it.

“What you said, the first week of classes. About me being a disgrace. I think… You were right, Yang. But not for the reasons you think. And you were wrong, too. I am a disgrace… because I’m not a disgrace, to the Schnee name.” Weiss steps forwards. “But I will be. And in doing so, I’ll make my name something to be proud of.”

“A thaw, that clears out the stains in the snow, so the next fall will remain pure. Yes. That’s what I’ll be,” Weiss nods to herself, her voice finding strength. “But the first step… We need to find Blake. Her past… her nature. I can’t say I don’t care. That it doesn’t bother me. But I will _make_ it not matter. Force myself not to care. But I... I think I'll need your help. Yours and Ruby's and Blake's.”

Yang respects that. “Sure. Do as you will.”

Weiss frowns at that, and takes another step. “That’s all you have to say?” Her tone isn’t challenging. It seems… lost.

Yang considers her words carefully. “Yes. Do as you will.” Now Yang steps forwards. “That’s all there is. Your will. To survive. And the only way to that is break all your limitations. Remove everything that restrains you. All other wills that oppose yours. That is the only freedom. There is no other choice. Do as you Will.”

A car passes, a flash of light bright in Yang’s dry eyes. She doesn’t flinch. Weiss gasps.

“Yang… your eyes...”

Yang’s never seen what Weiss just saw, but Ruby once described it to her, and Yang can relate it to something she did see, once.

Once, years ago, in a small dark cabin in the woods, when she was scared and young and weak in mind and body and terribly alone, except for the red eyes burning out of the darkness.


	11. Chapter Eight

Yang’s fist crashed into Velvet’s face.

The Faunus girl flinched, but countered with a trio of rapid kicks. The first went low, to Yang’s leg, stopping her advance. The second snapped up high to Yang’s chin, but she barely dodged it. The final strike caught Yang right in her solar plexus with devastating strength.

Yang started to back off, trying to catch her breath, but Velvet followed her- only to catch a one-two combo to her head and stomach, having dropped her hands in her advance.

Both fighters disengaged, reeling.

“Excellent work, from both of you. Do keep your guard up, Velvet,” Glynda Goodwitch offered from the sidelines.

Yang noted the praise, even as she spared a glance at the scoreboard, displaying their Aura totals. Roughly even, with both of them down a hefty amount.

She looked back to Velvet, who was watching her warily in turn and Yang pondered what to do. With the ‘Blake-revealing-her-past-and-almost-running-away’ crisis resolved, she’d turned her attention to the matter of the rabbit-girl who almost certainly knew that Yang was working for Roman Torchwick. Afterall, Yang hadn’t been wearing a mask the night she’d fought the Fang lieutenant, a fact he’d pointed out. Velvet- or at least Yang assumed it was Velvet- had also been present that night, which explained why Velvet was so wary of her.

Yang hadn’t exactly shown her best side, that night.

Velvet _probably_ wouldn’t reveal Yang, because that would put her at risk of having her own affiliations brought to light, or even open her-

Velvet sprang forward with a high kick that Yang dodged. Velvet switched feet and went low with her other leg, which Yang checked on her own, before retaliating with a hook aimed at Velvet’s head.

Velvet threw herself backwards, but converted the fall into a roll, into a handstand. She flung herself upright in an acrobatic manoeuvre that ended with a kick that _would_ have taken Yang’s head off, if she’d bothered to pursue. Yang smirked and waved from across the arena.

_Damn kicking based styles. So impractical._

-up to retaliation from Roman. But Yang didn’t like loose ends, especially not when they might be carrying a grudge. And from the ferocity Velvet was displaying in this match, a far cry from her usual timid style, she almost certainly was.

Yang especially didn’t like the idea that she might deserve it.

And speaking of Roman, Ruby and Blake had told her how they’d confronted him at the docks, with the help of that strange girl and the blond vagabond with the abs. But now… he hadn’t contacted her, to say anything, or… It was almost the same situation as that night so long ago, before starting at Beacon. This time, Yang had tried to contact him, and Neo, but neither had responded, leaving her in the lurch.

With nothing she could do with that matter, she’d turned her attention to what she _could_ influence, and a chance assignment in sparring class had played into that perfectly.

So now she wanted to… what? Convince Velvet that yes, Yang was a criminal, but no, she wasn’t a _racist_ criminal, even though she certainly looked that way, and pretty please don’t tell anyone?

Or… just make sure that Velvet wouldn’t even _think_ of crossing her…

Yang couldn’t decide. Did she want Velvet to be a… friend? An ally? Someone she could share her secret with? Or did she want to just mark her territory, so to speak? Neuter Velvet as a rival, make sure that she wouldn’t encroach on Yang’s territory...

The two circled each other warily. Neither were armed- well, technically Yang had Ember Celica, but the gauntlets didn’t actually do much for her unless she used the built-in shotguns, which she wasn’t, for this fight. Yang knew that Velvet had a weapon, too, but also that it was a secret and she never used it, which kind of defeated the purpose of having it, in Yang’s opinion, although she understood the logic.

Velvet feinted like she was going to leap forwards, but Yang didn’t react. Velvet had started the fight that way, and Yang had just thrown her across the ring, so she knew that the Faunus would be cautious about such an attack. Over ten years of getting glomped by Ruby had paid off.

They moved in closer, and closer and- Velvet tensed her lead leg, but kept her hands up, having learned her lesson, but Yang taught her a new one and did something very un-Huntress like, and launched herself low, grabbing Velvet’s leg. She kept powering forward, and sent both of them crashing down, with a surprised yelp from Velvet.

Yang landed on top, and she quickly transitioned into a full mount, and started launching half-hearted blows down at Velvet. She didn’t want to actually _win_ yet, she just needed a way to talk that Velvet couldn’t run away from. For her part, Velvet seemed quite put off by their new position.

Velvet made a weak attempt at escaping, which Yang allowed and gave up the mount, but she kept the battle on the ground. For next few moments they rolled around awkwardly, ignoring the hoots and whistles from the peanut gallery.

Wrestling wasn’t a part of Beacon’s curriculum, and most Hunters and Huntresses frowned upon it, favouring their weapons. After all, you couldn’t put a Beowulf into a chokehold! But Yang had picked it up, specifically _because_ most Hunters just couldn’t handle being knocked down and pinned, their weapon and more importantly, their mobility, denied to them. At one point, Yang quickly grabbed and released one of Velvet’s ears. She didn’t want to actually use it against her, just show that she _could_. Yang considered that she was probably undermining her ‘not a racist, honest’ policy.

Yang got into a dominant position again, pressing down on top of Velvet. She locked her gaze with Velvet’s dark eyes, then leaned in close to Velvet’s ear- her human one. She could hear Glynda saying something, but ignored her.

“We need to talk,” Yang whispered. “About what happened this weekend. _Both_ our bosses aren’t happy.” A gamble. What if Velvet _wasn’t_ actually in the Fang?

Velvet didn’t respond, but redoubled her squirming, to no effect. Yang didn’t mind. She could wear her out. Eventually Yang’s gamble paid off, and Velvet stopped, and looked at Yang again, her eyes angry.

“At ten, tonight.” Her harsh whisper masked her accent. Yang didn’t know where it was from. “Outside the cafeteria.”

Yang nodded, and started to shift into an attacking position. Now that she’d said her piece, she wanted to _win._

Except Velvet used Yang's shift in posture against her, sliding her legs out from beneath Yang in an impossibly flexible way, and suddenly Yang was flying through the air. She landed, relatively unphased, and looked up.

The bottom of Velvet’s boot had a weird little heart on it. Huh.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Yang started to exit the class in a foul mood. Her loss against Velvet rankled her. She’d been winning! Until Velvet _somehow_ escaped from Yang's pin and knocked her out of the ring. Whatever trick she’d done, Yang would have to learn to counter.

“May I speak to you for a moment, Yang?” Glynda’s voice.

Yang turned. “Sure, Professor!” she said, faking cheerfulness.

Goodwitch looked at her thoughtfully. “Don’t take your loss too hard, Yang. You had an… interesting tactic that effectively neutralized Velvet’s speed and agility. But I got the sense that your heart wasn’t in the fight. Is something wrong?” she asked, sounding concerned.

Yang wasn’t quite sure what to say. She could deny the Professor’s assertion, or play it off, and Glynda would probably believe her, or at least enough to drop the matter, but that could create suspicion… was ‘I wanted to talk to Velvet’ even suspicious? During a sparring match?

“I heard about what happened with your team on the weekend,” Glynda prompted at Yang’s silence.

Yang seized on that. “Yeah, I was just… you know. With Blake, and then Ruby fought that creep _again_ …” she trailed off.

Glynda frowned. “Yes, I’d thought I’d warned her about jumping into such things. Although, I suppose such things are to be expected when dealing with young Huntresses.”

“Uh, yeah, exactly,” Yang agreed uncertainly.

“But you’re doing alright? No more... _problems_ with Miss Belladonna?”

_So that’s what she’s after._

Yang smiled. “Everything’s fine with Blake, Professor. Thank you for asking.”

“That’s good to hear,” Glynda said. “If you do have any concerns, feel free to come to me.”

Yang nodded, and the Professor continued. “Good to hear. Now, I did have another reason to talk to you, Yang. I’m sure you heard about the upcoming dance?”

Yang nodded again.

“Well, officially I am in charge of setup,” Glynda explained, “but I _am_ rather busy, and am looking for student helpers. In addition, since the dance is for the students, I believe it to be important that they have their input. Would you or any of the other members of your team be interested? Miss Adel and Miss Scarlatina have already agreed.”

Yang was flabbergasted. She’d had to come up with a cunning to plan to force Velvet to talk to her… and Glynda had just handed her the opportunity on a silver platter!

“I- Yes! I’d definitely love to help,” she agreed. “And I’ll ask the girls. Weiss will probably be down, but I doubt Ruby or Blake would be interested, though.”

“That’s quite alright. Thank you, Yang. I'll let you know when the first meeting is next class. Did you have anything you wanted to ask me?” Glynda replied.

Yang shook her head. “No, I’m good, thanks. Although- I am a bit surprised that you’d ask something like this, after the uh, food fight yesterday.”

Glynda gave her a sharp look with biting green eyes and Yang regretted bringing the incident up, but her gaze softened after a moment. The Professor sighed. “While I am not _happy_ with your conduct, I’ve… realized that such foolishness is only natural. In the end, I was able to repair all the damage. Just don’t let it happen again.”

Yang beamed. “Pinky promise, Prof!”

 

* * *

 

 

“Uggggh, classes are so _boring,_ Yang! I still really really _really_ want a break,” Ruby Rose complained.

Yang looked up from where she was working. “You’re just not going to let that drop, are you? I don’t even know where you got the idea that there was supposed to be a two week break in the middle of the semester. Oh, pass me that wrench- no, the one on your right.”

Ruby sighed as she handed over the tool. “I thought I read it in the syllabus?”

Yang just smiled and shook her head, as she poked and prodded in the mechanical guts of the new motorcycle she’d bought with the money Roman had given her. It wasn’t a very expensive model, and she’d even bought it slightly used, but Yang had faith that she’d be able to get it (or her, vehicles were always female, weren’t they?) in tip-top shape, with Ruby’s help.

Standing up, Yang dropped the wrench and stretched. She looked around the near empty off-campus parking lot. Since Beacon was up on a cliff, there wasn’t any parking there, and the few students who did have vehicles shared a small lot near the transport station. She’d had to buy a parking pass.

Classes for the day were over, and Yang relaxed in the sun. Even in autumn it was still warm, but that would probably change soon. She’d have to find some sort of storage for the bike.

Ruby seemed content as well. It was nice, just the two of them, working on something with their hands. They’d used to do this when they could, but rarely had the time.

Yang closed her eyes, luxuriating and thinking about what she wanted the bike to look like. To perform like. What she’d name it. What she’d wear to the dance. What she’d say to Velvet.

“Hey, Yang?”

“Yes, Ruby?”

“Where… where did you even get this bike, anyway? I mean, how did, how did you afford…” Ruby trailed off. Yang cracked one eye open to glance at her sister, who was doing a very poor job of trying to seem casual.

“I had some money saved up,” Yang lied, even knowing that Ruby would see right through it. Yang hated lying. She was bad at it.

Ruby frowned. “Ok…”

They were silent for a moment. Yang didn’t believe that Ruby believed her, but was glad that she seemed willing to drop the matter.

“Does Dad know?”

_Or not._

Yang didn’t respond.

“I guess he doesn’t, then.”

Yang crouched down and started putting the parts she’d taken out back into the bike. “Don’t worry about it, Ruby.”

“I’m not worried about the bike, not really,” Ruby said, her voice nervous. “Or about you, or… It’s just, I don’t like it when you do things like this… keep things from Dad, and…”

“I’m not keeping things from him,” Yang said flatly. “I’ll tell him, when I’m ready.”  Another lie.

Ruby wrung her cloak, her silver eyes cast down. “Ok. It’s just… this reminds me of a couple years ago, when you started going out and coming back with all those nice clothes, and Dad was all, ‘where did you get those’, and you were like, ‘just some friends, leave me alone’, and then you both started yelling, and…”

Yang remembered that. She’d been thirteen, and had just started getting involved with Junior’s gang. She’d also been very angry a lot of the time. And Ruby would have been, eleven at the time? Had Ruby even changed at all, since they were kids? She still acted so childish. Yang loved her for it, but even at fifteen she still acted younger than Yang did at thirteen. Had Yang ever been like her? She didn’t think so.

Yang stood back up, and pulled Ruby into a hug. “Hey. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I promise, this is nothing like that other time.” A third lie. Damnit.

Ruby sighed, and leaned into her. “I just wish you and Dad could get along. I know you don’t like him-”

“That’s not true. Ruby, he’s our Dad. Of course I love him. He just...” Finally, not a lie. “We just don’t see eye to eye on some things. Besides, how could I not like the man who taught me how to fight?”

“If you say so, Yang,” Ruby said softly. She broke the embrace. Yang frowned and didn't meet her eyes.

Yang’s Scroll buzzed, and she fished it out of her jacket pocket.

‘Work’.

_Roman..._

_Shit._

“Hey, I’ve got to take this, alright?” Yang said.

“Another _friend_?” Ruby asked. Yang ignored the frown on her sister’s face and the tone in her voice, and turned and started walking away.

“Hello?” Yang answered the call.

“Yang. Can you talk? Sorry I haven’t returned your calls sooner. I’ve been busy,” Roman’s voice was staticky and faint, as if he was some place with poor reception.

“Yeah, no problem, just… one moment.” Yang kept putting distance between herself and Ruby. “Alright, I’m good,” she said when she judged she was far enough to not be overhead.

“I’m not happy, Yang.” It was hard to tell with the static, but he certainly didn’t _sound_ happy.

“Oh, you’re not? That’s, that’s too bad,” Yang simpered. “Can I ask why-”

“You damn well know why, Yang,” he interrupted. “But to recap, I had to abandon a very _large_ shipment of Dust because a ragtag group of children showed up. Including one little Red. Once, I can forget. Twice, I do not forgive.”

Yang’s tried to conceal her panic. “Oh, her again? Well, do you want me to do something-”

“I _want_ you to control your team, Yang! To keep your little sister _out_ of my business!”

“You- you knew? How long…” she stammered.

Roman’s tone had the same fatal bluntness as the black block writing in a test not studied for. “Did you really think I didn’t? That I hadn’t known from the beginning?”

“I… I-I don’t-” The autumn air seemed stiflingly hot now, and yet she was frozen in place.

“Yang,” Roman’s voice softened. “I’m not going to hold this against you. I’m not even going to take action against Ruby, or Blake. _This_ time. Don’t let there be another. Do you understand?”

Yang turned back to Ruby, in the distance.

“Yes,” Yang said weakly. “I promise.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, update! Really sorry about the delay everyone. It's just... Dark Souls. And I'd wanted to do more and have this update be larger, but, well... I don't have to say it again, do I? I figured I'd better at least put something out, though.
> 
> Lots going on in this chapter.
> 
> First- fight scenes. Honestly, I can't come close to capturing RWBY's hyper kinetic fights. There's just so much going on! Like even a short segment like Ren vs. Yang in the food fight would be a chapter by itself. Instead I focus on fewer but more impactful actions. I almost feel like they come off as depowered compared to the show, and that's not my intent, it's just... yeah. I'll have to work on that.
> 
> Yang talking to Glynda- the cracks are starting to show, a bit. She can't even take an innocent question without confusing herself with mindgames. Also Glynda was subtly asking if Yang was ok with having an ex-terrorist as a partner. If only she knew!
> 
> The dance- the wiki says that Team CVFY was originally in charge but had to abdicate when their mission ran long. I changed things a bit here- but I think it works because CVFY are first years in this fic so they wouldn't be going out on a mission until after the dance, anyway. Not much is really going to change from this, just some flavour, I think.
> 
> Poking a little fun at RWBY's crazy timeline.
> 
> Yang and lying- one of the things I've tried to do is that Yang rarely ever _directly_ lies, as in state something she knows for certain to be untrue. She will, however, use lies of omission, state assumptions as truths, use vague wording, or outright says the truth in a way that makes people not believe her. For example, when Goodwitch asks her what's wrong, and mentions the dock fight, Yang just recaps what happened without actually saying how she feels, and lets Glynda make the assumption that that was the cause of her poor fight. But she's got a hang up about doing this with Ruby, and kind of self-sabotages (Ruby's also good at seeing through Yang's deceptions). Anyone care to try and find more examples?
> 
> And more importantly- every trick Yang uses, Torchwick uses too. But he's better at it, and he _will_ outright lie if he needs to.


	12. An Interlude with Velvet

“So, how about it, Blondie?” Cardin’s question rang in the night, brash and annoying.

Yang was silent a moment before responding. “I don’t think so, Winchester. I’m going to be helping, so I probably won’t have time at the dance for a date, right?”

Cardin snorted in displeasure, and the two puffed on their deathsticks.

Velvet curled her lip back in distaste. Hidden behind a corner some distance away, she watched the pair, spying. No, not spying- gathering intelligence. Reconnaissance. She had to remember that.

The two deserved each other, and their stupid cigarettes, she thought. Loud and brash and smelly and hateful and _mean_. Velvet didn’t know if she wanted them to date- it made a certain kind of sense to her, and maybe they’d distract each other and leave Velvet alone- or maybe they’d just somehow make each other _worse_ , and Velvet’s life worse in turn.

Velvet considered them carefully. Cardin was… he made things worse for Velvet, just a little bit, everyday. But he was only a bully. Not _really_ a threat, just… just… she didn’t like him, at all.

Yang, though… She _knew_. About Velvet’s ties to the White Fang. And she was an even more hateful person than Cardin. Velvet had seen it. More dangerous too, working with that Torchwick criminal.

Could Cardin be working for him, too? No, no, Cardin was a moron and an awful fighter. Velvet didn’t like or respect Torchwick at all, but she knew he had standards. Yang was the real concern.

What was the _worst_ thing about Yang was that she pretended like she was nice, like she wanted to be Velvet’s friend. That she wasn’t a huge… meanie. But Velvet hadn’t fallen for that trick. She’d thought maybe that Yang actually _hadn’t_ known that Velvet was in the Fang, but when Yang had called this meeting that had dispelled Velvet’s doubts.

Speaking of, the time for the meeting had passed several minutes ago, Cardin’s presence delaying them. Yang didn’t seem in any hurry to get rid of him. Did she like his company? Or would it be suspicious to shoo him off? Just like with Torchwick, Velvet didn’t _like_ Yang, but she recognized that the blonde seemed to be handling the double-life much better than Velvet, and Velvet wanted to learn some tips. She’d almost accidentally revealed herself to her teammates so many times.

Yang and Cardin spoke again. Velvet picked out their conversation at a distance a normal human couldn’t- she caught herself. At a distance a _mere_ human would never be capable of, her superior Faunus ears catching their words with ease and her eyes cutting through the night’s gloom with clarity.  

Despite that, Velvet couldn’t really follow their conversation. It was clearly doublespeak, couched in vagaries and abstractions. Eventually Yang smirked, and produced a small bag out of a jacket pocket. Even at such a distance, and even with her… lack of experience, in such things, Velvet recognized it as a small bit of Wax Dust. 

Wax Dust wasn’t actually Dust, but the resin of a Vacuan desert cactus, dried and powdered. When smoked it acted as a soporific and mild hallucinogenic. Illegal, but on the lighter end of things. The Fang often dealt in such markets to help with funds, not that Velvet was involved with that.

Almost everyone had- Coco had mentioned trying it once, in passing, and liking it. Not Velvet, though. She thought maybe she wanted... Still, it was against school rules, against the law. Velvet smiled. She knew what this meant- she had blackmail against her chief tormentor _and_ her biggest threat. Not that she actually knew how to blackmail someone. Or maybe she could just get them expelled? Now that was a thought. But first she had to see what Yang wanted, how last weekend’s debacle would affect Velvet-

Her ears perked up at the sound of her name. Cardin had handed Yang a small wad of Lien, and Yang had started to covertly hand the bag over to Cardin in return, but stopped and said something that Velvet had missed, except for the mention of her name.

“Seriously? You care about that little freak? And why _should_ I leave her alone?” Cardin responded, disbelievingly.

Velvet couldn’t believe it- _Yang_ was asking Cardin to stop tormenting her? There had to be some sort of catch. Yang would use it against her somehow, or… but there was part of her that didn’t care about any of the mind games, and was rejoicing at this slim hope of being free.

“Really? ‘Cause racism is wrong, or whatever, Winchester. Anyway, does it matter why? I’m asking, is all.” Yang seemed to think for a moment. She leaned forward in an ‘oh-so-casual’ way. “Come on, Cardin. For me? If you leave Velvet alone, maybe I _will_ have time for a dance…” she trailed off, her voice and smile sickly-sweet.

Cardin perked up at that. “Heh, well, if you put it that way…” He flicked his cigarette butt on the ground.

“Oh, and your little cronies leave her alone, too,” Yang said, as she let him take the bag of Wax. Cardin made a noncommittal grunt and stuck his hands in his pockets. He stared at her for a moment, but then abruptly looked at the ground.

 “You in any rush, tonight?” Cardin asked after a moment, desperately casual.

“Kind of,” Yang said lightly. “Got a thing. Actually, I’m already late. Probably should get going.” She laughed, and Cardin did too, just a moment too late and just a bit too hard.

Cardin seemed to get the hint, though. “Well, I should probably get going, too,” he said, sounding like he was trying very hard _not_ to sound disappointed. “I’ll think about what you said, Yang.”

“See you around, Cardin,” Yang replied. “Pleasure doing business.”

Cardin moved away, but Yang stayed and lit another cigarette.

Velvet couldn’t help but… admire Yang’s handling of the boy. A slight change in posture, a slight change in her tone, a few words, and she’d had him practically eating out of her hand. Velvet didn’t think she could _ever_ do something like that. Not with a boy. Even just talking to Fox or Yatsuhashi (he’d said she could call him Hashi, but Velvet just couldn’t, not even in her own mind) made her nervous. She couldn’t even talk to her own teammates! 

But Yang, this- this _hussie_ could just do… _whatever_ she wanted. It wasn’t fair! It… it made Velvet sick, she decided, and this was true, as her jealousy and anger mixed together to form an awful hollow negative in her stomach. Velvet told herself it was faint wisps of smoke from the distant blonde making her ill.

Cardin had vanished, but Yang still had not moved. Velvet wondered if she should go to Yang, but Velvet thought that would seem like she was at Yang’s beck and call, and that idea frustrated her. Yang should have to come to her! Except Yang didn’t know where Velvet was, considering she was hiding and all… 

Her head hurt. Velvet hated all these secret agent mindgames and power plays.

Yang spared her the trouble.

“You can come out now, Velvet,” she called out into the night.

Darn her. If Velvet obliged, it really would seem like Yang could order around. If she didn’t, then Yang would think that Velvet wasn’t going to play along, and who knows what would happen then? And Yang _had_ just seemingly done Velvet a favour, although Velvet worried what it would cost.

Darn- Damn her. _Damn_ her.

Velvet marched out from behind the corner, feeling like she was a child again, stubbornly insisting to herself that she was doing this because she wanted to, not because she was commanded to.

Yang didn’t make any move, but relaxed against the wall, languidly watching Velvet approach. At least she dropped her cigarette butt and snuffed it out with her boot, although the lingering smoke still irritated Velvet’s sensitive nose.

Velvet tried to take the initiative. “How long did you know I was watching?”

How much did Yang know that Velvet saw, she was really wondering.

Yang smiled in response. “Oh, not for sure until you came out just now, when I called. Lucky guess. Good thing, too, or I would have looked really silly!”

Velvet did not like that answer. Either Yang was being extremely glib, which Velvet didn’t appreciate, or she was lying… and also being glib. Either way, Velvet was on the back foot. She considered just walking away, right then, but didn’t.

Did Yang know that Velvet had seen her selling drugs? Had she let Velvet see on purpose? Would trying to get her in trouble just be falling for some trap? Or was she bluffing, to try and keep Velvet from taking advantage of an accidentally exposed weakness?

Velvet didn’t know what do think- Yang wasn’t _that_ smart.

Was she?

Again, Velvet tried to get down to business. “You said we needed to talk about- about last weekend.”

Yang didn’t respond.

Velvet frowned. “You know what? Frankly, I don’t see how any of that is _my_ concern- it was _your_ team that got involved. Why would my boss be mad at me? Why am I even talking to _you_? How would you even know anything, about...” Velvet’s voice didn’t rise much above a whisper, but perhaps it was more accurately described as a quiet shout.

Yang sighed. “Yeah… yeah. You’re right. I don’t know anything. It didn’t have anything to do with you. Your boss… I don’t know what he’s thinking. I lied about all that.” Yang tried to catch Velvet’s eyes, but Velvet looked away. “I just… wanted to talk to you, and I couldn’t think of any other way to make you listen. Not that you had reason to.”

Velvet looked at the ground, then up at Yang, who was now looking at the sky. Velvet thought that Yang had sounded almost _sad_. But that couldn’t be, could it? So Yang hadn’t wanted to talk _business_ … then what was she really after? 

“Hey. Let’s go for a walk. If you want,” Yang said, slowly. “You don’t have to. Just around campus, nowhere… weird.”

Nowhere that could be an ambush, is what Velvet thought she was trying to say.

“Besides,” Yang continued, “I’m sure you don’t appreciate the smell around here. Come on.” She started walking away, hands in the pockets of her brown riding jacket.

Velvet followed. If she was being honest… the cigarette smoke didn’t bother her that much. There were some Fang members who smoked. Her grandmother had smoked. But what _did_ bother her was that Yang was being… nice? Or was she making some subtle jab at Velvet’s heritage, or some insidious ploy to gain her trust…

Velvet hate, hate, _hated_ all of this. She wanted to just… scream. What do you _mean_? What are you _after_ ? _Why_? Why _me_ ?

They walked in silence for a bit, Yang leading and Velvet trailing slightly. Velvet tugged at her ears, but she stopped, self-conscious. An old habit, and one that she greatly resented.

True to Yang’s word, they kept to brightly lit paths, well in sight of the few buildings that had lights on so late. The library, the cafeteria, the student quad, the main office, some residences…

“I'm sorry.”

Velvet snapped back to attention. “What?” she asked, a bit surprised but mostly confused.

Yang turned to face her. “Look, we both know where we stand. Ah, in terms of our _employment_. We could both really hurt each other, if we wanted to, and be hurt in return.”

Velvet nodded. The thought had crossed her mind.

Yang also nodded in acknowledgement. “Right. If it was just that, I’d be fine going our separate ways. You do your thing, I do mine. We come to an understanding, everything’s fine, right?”

Velvet shrugged. “Sure.” Except it _wasn’t_ just that, was it?

“Except it’s not just that,” Yang said, perfectly echoing Velvet’s thoughts.

Yang’s eyes suddenly snapped to Velvet’s, and she had to suppress a shudder. They weren’t… Velvet didn’t think they were human. Not really. Not in the way Faunus or animal eyes weren’t human… but in the way eye-holes in a mask weren’t. Predator eyes. Painted lilac over razor sharp hunger. No compassion, but no malice, either.

Just sensory inputs to a calculating, whirring _will_ that gave no recognition to those it caught in its jaws. Not _victim_ , but _prey_ , _threat_ , _rival_.

Which was Velvet?

Was she the only one who saw Yang like this?

Was it just her fear that gave her such thoughts?

“So… what else is there to it, then?” Yang asked, her voice flat. Velvet didn’t answer. Yang leaned forward slightly. “Say it, Velvet.”

“You’re a- a racist b- _bitch_ ,” Velvet forced out. “And I hate you.”

Yang withdrew. Not hurt, just… assessing.

“Okay. I deserve that,” Yang said. She looked around. They’d stopped at the statue that guarded Beacon’s main path. The two warriors triumphant. Velvet liked that statue. Both warriors were hooded, and she’d always imagined…

Yang sat down on one of the concrete barriers. Velvet remained standing.

Yang shook her head. “That’s why I’m sorry. I know you saw me… at my worst. I’m not going to claim to be a good person, but-”

“I’ll say,” Velvet cut her off. “You’re working for a racist criminal.”

Yang actually looked slightly annoyed. “And a lot of people would say the same about you.”

“No, I’m a-” Velvet reigned her volume back down. “A bloody _freedom fighter_.”

Yang snorted. “That’s not how the police see it. Or the media, or the government. Not that _I_ care. Do as you will, and all that.” She waved her hand.

Velvet shook her head. “No… no! You’re trying to- to equate us! We’re _nothing_ alike. You’re just some two-bit thug. What are you after, huh? Money? The chance to get your jollies beating up Faunus, you sick-”

“I’m after the same thing as you-”

“Like Hell! I’m fighting for equality, for _justice_ -”

“There’s no such thing!” Yang snarled. “There’s only _power_ , and-” She sighed, and for once Velvet saw something human in her eyes. Regret. “And nothing. And that’s why I’m sorry. Please, Velvet, hear me out.”

Velvet wanted to say some pithy quip, and walk away, but she stayed. She didn’t know if it was because she sensed something genuine in Yang- or if it was just because she was so weak-willed that she _couldn’t_. Neither option appealed to her. She just stared at Yang, waiting for… for any of this to make sense.

Yang sank back down onto the barrier, eyes downcast. “I said some really _fucked up_ things, that night. I’m not going to deny it, or make excuses. To me, that stuff, it was just… a weapon, to use against… I didn’t _really_ mean it. Except, I said it, and what’s the difference, honestly?”

“Not much. Not for the people who actually matter,” Velvet said.

Yang nodded. “Yeah. I know. I was wrong. I… I really regret that. I’ll cross a lot of lines, but I’ve realized that there are some…”

“Bravo. You’ve figured out what most decent people learn at the age of five,” Velvet said sarcastically.

Except that she didn’t, actually. She only wished that she could. Instead she stayed silent.

“That’s why I tried to get Cardin to lay off you. I don’t know if he actually will. I don’t know if that makes up for…” Yang sat on the barrier, her head down. She sat like a prisoner. Her blonde hair cascaded over her face like a shroud. Not quite- a burial shroud. Not a prisoner, then. The damned awaiting final judgment.

Velvet thought about a lot of things. Yang seemed sincere, in this. Velvet could maybe, just maybe, forgive her that. Or at least give her a chance.

But… was that what this was really about?

She didn’t like Yang- and not just because of the racist comments. Velvet had joined the Fang to make a difference, but instead she’d watched as it was co-opted by ruthless thugs. One of which was sitting before her. One of which had mercilessly mocked and beaten a man who’d become an inspiration to Velvet, who’d promised her the world.

Except… that wasn’t entirely it, either.

Yang was everything Velvet _wanted_ to be. Confident, and strong. Intelligent, and purposeful. Beautiful, and intense. Velvet was incredibly jealous of her, and incredibly scared of her. Coco was some of these things, too, and was Velvet’s friend, but Velvet couldn’t tell her about so much… How she really felt, but maybe Yang would-

Some of the Fang’s recent tactics… Velvet didn’t like them, but she agreed with them. Or thought she did. Otherwise she wouldn’t have joined them. She wanted justice, but what was justice without the power to enforce it? And what was power without the ruthlessness to excise it?

Maybe Yang was right, and they were after the same things. The Fang had to become fierce and harsh, to withstand the grinding machinery of the unjust society they lived in. Velvet had seen what happened to those caught in its gears, or crushed under its treads. She’d seen the husks spat out, waste and by-product.

The Fang had become monsters to fight a monster, more vast and soulless than any Grimm. The loyal hound had become a vicious wolf. And Velvet wanted to be there with them, no longer prey. No longer just a… rabbit, food for anything hungry.

Except that Velvet had heard stories, whispers that cut off abruptly when they realized she was listening. About the woman who had razed the Fang’s camp in an inferno. Who had bent the wild beast to her will. As fierce as the Fang had become, she was more ruthless still.

And Velvet had seen Yang, seen her semblance, her power. The bright and heavy blaze that had laid low one of their strongest-

What predator was hungrier, was fiercer, was more ruthless, was more full of life, than fire?

“That stuff you gave Cardin,” she said. “You could get in a lot of trouble for that.”

Yang’s head shot up. Was she worried? No. Just cautiously curious.

Velvet made her pay for that, as her fist snapped out to catch Yang right in the eye. Yang’s head flew back, and then suddenly she was surging up and forward, a dark calculating light in her gaze.

Velvet smiled. Something toothy that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Something that she’d copied off Yang. I am not your prey anymore, she thought. Never again. 

Yang stopped, but Velvet leaned in, her face an inch from Yang's.

"I want some."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. I'm so sorry about not updating in so long. I just had some personal things, and a huge case of writer's block, and... you know. But I think I'm over the hump now, and hopefully- hopefully!- I can return to a faster schedule.
> 
> Speaking of writer's block... it was all Velvet. I've got the main story pretty much planned out, but I threw Velvet in on a whim, way back. Except as I was building up the confrontation with her, I realized, well, she was crazy important and I had no idea what I wanted to do with her or how she fit in. So yeah, kind of had to do a lot of thinking.


	13. Chapter Nine Part One

Yang thought she had a good thing going.

Which is why she wouldn’t let this latest obstacle get her down.

She stared at her foes. Weiss Schnee, seeking redemption for her name… had she found it in her unlikely new ally? The secret White Fang agent Velvet Scarlatina, eager to exert her newfound confidence? The odd pair fixed Yang with twin glares, blue and brown, their unassuming appearances belying the strength hidden within. Hard ice wrapped in velvet.

Yang tittered at her wordplay.

Next to her, she felt her own ally shift restlessly. Coco Adel, the mysterious fashionista- her own values seemingly aligned with Yang’s, placing each of them against a so-called ‘teammate’. 

Weiss glanced at Velvet but Yang struck preemptively, before they could collaborate. She leaned forward, and jabbed one finger down- 

“No,” she paused for emphasis, “ _doilies_.”

But Weiss countered with her own defense, half standing as she spoke. “And no _fog machines_.”

Yang rose as well, followed by Coco. Velvet joined them a moment later. They stood at an impasse, neither side willing to compromise on this most critical of matters.

After a moment Yang realized she’d forgotten a crucial resource, a way to tip the scales- by the widening of her eyes, Weiss had come to the same conclusion. Yang would have to act fast.

She turned and spoke, falsetto sweet, even as Weiss did the same, their voices blending together.

“Oh, Ren?”

The fifth and final member of the committee, Lie Ren, the only male in the room, Yang’s hope and saviour- and what a _dashing_ stripe of pink there- regarded the four girls with a somewhat bemused expression. Yang started to doubt herself. He had a _pink_ stripe dyed in his hair, he probably _would_ vote for doilies...

“I think,” he said softly, “that we’ve had enough for today. Let’s meet again tomorrow.”

Yang narrowed her eyes even as she plastered a fake grin on.

 _Oh yes, how_ reasonable _. But you’ve only delayed the inevitable, Ren..._

She turned back towards Weiss, but Coco spoke for her.

“This isn’t over,” the fashionista said. Yang high-fived her without looking, before she pointed a finger at Weiss in warning. She cocked an eyebrow at Velvet, and smirked as Velvet put on her best warface in response.

Oh sure, Velvet was _dangerous_ , but she just looked so damn _adorable_ when she tried to be serious.

Yang thought the two had come to an understanding- if getting punched and then getting high together was an understanding- which Yang did. _That_ had been an experience. Honestly though, at this point she figured she probably knew Velvet better than Coco did.

The four women continued their stare-down. Ren sat, seemingly calm, but wary. Slowly, though, almost against her will, a smile creaked its way out from Yang’s frown, and met its match on Weiss’ face. The two started giggling, and were joined by Coco, then Velvet.

“This is really silly,” Weiss said.

The four girls and Ren agreed to that notion, and bade each other farewell. Ren announced the location of the next day’s meeting- they were always in a different, random room. Yang had her suspicions why.

Weiss joined her after waving Velvet and Coco off. Yang nodded her head towards the departing pair. “You seem to be getting along with Velvet,” she said, as they started off towards their dorm room.

Weiss looked somewhat unsure of herself. “Do you… do you really think so? I mean, I see her being teased by that Winchester scoundrel, and I… That doesn’t seem right, to me. She- she doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Yang shrugged. “No, she doesn’t. She talks to you though, so she must like you at least a bit, right? I think she does appreciate that you’re nice to her.” Yang based that on something Velvet had let slip while under the Wax’s influence. “And it’s not like you’ve called her thieving scum or anything."

As she spoke, Yang absently checked her Scroll, and sent off a quick reply to Neo. They texted often. Yang hadn’t heard from Roman lately, though. Neo said he was just very busy.

Weiss remained silent, so Yang teasingly asked, “You haven’t called her thieving scum, right?”

“No! No, of course not-” Weiss’ panic subsided when she saw Yang’s mocking grin. “Hmph. I _haven’t_ engaged in any… uncouth behaviour, no.”

“Just teasing, Weiss.”

_Those two are a disaster waiting to happen. All of this is..._

They fell into a companionable silence.

After a moment Weiss spoke up. “Have you done Professor Port’s latest assignment?” she asked, deliberately nonchalant.

“No, I haven’t.” And it wasn’t due for a few more days, so Yang had time.

Weiss must picked up on the defensive snap to Yang’s voice, because she was quick to clarify. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I… Well, I haven’t done it either, and I was wondering if you wanted to work on it with me?”

“Oh… like now?” The offer caught Yang by surprise. True, she was getting along with Weiss much better now, but Weiss still was quite the perfectionist. Honestly, with how much they argued on the dance committee, Yang didn’t see how any sort of collaborative effort would end well.

Maybe Weiss realized this too. “Ah, if you’re not doing anything. We can… we can ask Ruby, or Blake, as well. If you want.”

Or maybe she thought that Yang still didn’t like her.

“No, no, I just didn’t think…” Suddenly Yang was all smiles. “I’m surprised, is what! _You_ left an assignment this late? How will you find time to quintuple check it? Professor Port will be _so_ disappointed.”

“Oh, such cheek!” Weiss said, but it was mock hurt. She’d was getting better at rolling with Yang’s punches.

“Haha! No, it sounds like a plan,” Yang laughed. “I was going to write about Nevermores, and uh, something about their… beaks?”

Weiss looked at her quizzically, as they changed course for the library. “Is this about that time during initiation where you almost got eaten?”

“What can I say? It was a memorable experience,” Yang shrugged.

Weiss laughed, which was becoming a more common occurrence, and one that Yang enjoyed. “You should tell the story to the Professor- he’d be sure to love it! He might even give you bonus marks.”

Yang struck a pose. “The cantankerous crow cawed cravenly,” she boasted in her best impression of the portly professor. “But this maiden masterfully, uh, mulched?”

“The pugilist powerfully punched?” Weiss suggested, giggling.

Yang laughed. “Yes, perfect! Oh, we should do a presentation together. You’ll have to be the bird, though. Think you can do a good Nevermore?”

Weiss obligingly flapped her arms. “A-coodle-doodle-doo?”

“Have you even _seen_ a Nevermore?”

They walked alongside each other, laughing and joking.

During a break in their laughter, Weiss asked,“Er- _did_ you want to see if Ruby or Blake would be interested?”

Yang did some quick thinking. “I think Ruby said she wanted to do maintenance on Crescent Rose today.” That was true. “And she also gets real grumpy if she gets interrupted.” Also true. Neither of those facts were the reason Yang didn’t want to invite Ruby.

Yang waved her hand in thought. Time for a third truth. “And, well… she’s a big procrastinator-”

“Much like her sister, usually.”

“-so we could invite her,” Yang ignored how bad she’d just been burned, “but she’d just whine and fidget the whole time and not get any work done. Leave it until the night before it’s due anyway.”

Weiss rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’d gathered that was her usual modus operandi.”

“I mean, I know that’s not what I’m supposed to let her do, as her big sister…” Yang said.

“Buuuut,” Weiss cut in.

“ _But_ , yeah, that’s what how _I_ usually roll. So I can’t really tell her off for messing around,” Yang finished. “Thing is, leaving stuff until the last minute works for me, because I can buckle down and focus, but… I mean, Ruby is real smart, and I help her, it’s just…”

“She’s just got too much energy,” Weiss said for her. “It’s hard for her to settle down on one task.”

“Unless it involves Crescent Rose or using Crescent Rose or learning how to kill Grimm with Crescent Rose, yeah.” Yang’s voice hitched over a lump in her throat. “Sometimes I worry I’m a bad role model for her. A bad sister.”

 _Where did_ that _come_ _from_?!

Weiss turned to catch Yang’s gaze, sympathy in her eyes, like refreshing pools of clear ice water. Yang drank deep. “Yang, that’s nonsense,” she said sternly, but not unkindly. “As a little sister myself, I feel qualified to say that you are a great big sister to Ruby.”

Oh, right. Weiss had an older sister. ‘W’ something… Winter. The Schnees were a prominent family, so Yang had picked up some things, even before rooming with one of them. Although Yang didn’t understand how Weiss was the heiress, even though she was the younger of the two. A question for another time.

But Weiss was wrong about Yang anyway, despite all that.

“I think,” Weiss continued, “that if you _do_ want to help Ruby with her coursework, well… No more procrastination from you. She’ll see you doing the work early, and follow suit, I’m sure.”

Yang shook her head. “You sly devil. You just changed tactics to get us to do what you want.”

“Ha!”

Yang ran her hand through her hair. “Alright, you got me. I’ll do all the homework early and be a good role model.” It’s not like that was really an onerous task, and it was probably for the best- Yang just had different priorities most of the time. “But, it’ll take some time before Ruby catches on, and if I just keep helping her when she leaves things until the last minute, she won’t actually learn…”

Weiss grimaced. “Hmm. Now, I _know_ that this might sound harsh, but perhaps you… don’t help her? Or you- _we_ \- the three of us, with Blake, perhaps, we give her enough help that she won’t fail, but no more.”

Yang thought it was a good idea. It made sense to her. She agreed with it. She didn’t _like_ it. “I’ll think about it.”

Weiss nodded. “Of course.”

They were nearing the library now and the stained-glass windows threw reflections of the afternoon sun into Yang’s eyes, making her squint.

“And what about Blake?” Weiss asked.

“Um, sure, if she wants. She’s been spending a lot of time in the library, so we might see her here, anyway,” Yang said.

“Er, yes, I’d been meaning to ask about that…” Weiss said nervously. “Is Blake acting… distant at all, with you?”

Yang nodded. Blake had been, in fact. Still polite as always to talk to, but Yang had been seeing less and less of her, and she’d been more withdrawn lately. But maybe… maybe Yang was ok with that.

Maybe she was a bit mad at Blake.

Maybe she didn’t have any right to be mad at Blake.

And maybe that made Yang mad at herself.

They pushed through the library’s heavy doors. Yang smiled at the cute student-librarian at the front desk, who smiled back.

“Oh,” Weiss said softly. “I was worried… well, do you suppose it’s about, ah, her past?” She lowered her voice and looked around furtively, in a way that would certainly only attract more attention, but there were only a few other students in sight, some distance away.

Despite the number of students enrolled at Beacon, and all the academic assignments and projects, the building was usually not very populated. Probably a side-effect of Hunters and Huntresses generally being very physically minded, with little patience for books. In that regard, Ruby fit right in with her peers.

“I don’t know,” Yang said. “I don’t think so. This all has to be a big change for her. Maybe we should let her come to us, when she’s ready?”

“I… suppose. You _are_ her partner,” Weiss acknowledged. “It’s just… Remember how I said I wanted to be… better? It’s hard to do so when… when the person I most need to be better _to_ barely talks to me.”

Weiss hugged herself and shook her head. “Ugh, that sounds so _selfish_. I really do want to connect with Blake, and-”

Yang cut her off. “Hey, I getcha. I know exactly what you mean.”

They rounded a corner as they came to the computer section- and speak of the devil. Yang saw a black pair of ‘ears’ atop of head of black hair seated at one of the stations, facing away.

Weiss nudged her. “There she is. I suppose this is our chance?”

Yang held in a sigh and started making her way over to Blake, Weiss following. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to Blake, it was just… Blake had made it her mission to bring down the White Fang.

And that meant taking down Roman Torchwick as well.

And that meant that…

That…

“Hey, Blake!” Yang said, causing the girl to jump in her seat. Yang caught a glimpse of what the girl had been looking at on the terminal monitor- news reports of White Fang sightings and robberies thought to be connected to them. Yang had never snuck up on Blake before, not even when she was trying, so she must have been _completely_ engrossed in her research.

_Control your team, Yang..._

Blake turned to look at them. “Oh, hello, Yang. And Weiss,” she said, catching sight of the short girl. “What are you two doing here?”

“We were going to work on Professor Port’s assignment. Would you like to join us?” Weiss asked.

Blake shifted nervously. “I… already did that one,” she said. Her bow almost _fluttered_ minutely as she spoke, and now Yang knew what it looked like when Blake lied.

“Sure you did,” Yang said.

Blake followed Yang’s gaze to the computer monitor, and then moved to block it, guiltily. “This is important,” she said defensively.

“Sure it is.”

“The Fah… you know who, they _have_ to be stopped.” Blake and Weiss both looked around to see if anyone had heard Blake’s near slip.

Yang shrugged. “Sure they do.”

Blake frowned, and Weiss moved in between them. “If Blake says she’s done the assignment, then she’s done it. Come along, Yang, we have work to do.” She half bowed to Blake, and then started pulling Yang away. “Good luck, Blake.”

As they started moving away, Blake stopped them. “Wait, I… maybe I could use a break.” Her gaze flicked back to the monitor. “Not now… maybe soon.”

Weiss smiled. “Well, we’ll just be upstairs if you want to join us.” She waved goodbye, and Yang nodded farewell before turning away. If Blake responded she didn’t hear it.

Yang and Weiss headed to a stairwell leading up to the second level, which was entirely devoted to literature on the Grimm. Just at the last moment, Yang looked back. Blake was already lost in the screen.

“Did you really believe her?” she asked Weiss.

“About doing her assignment? Of course not. But I can’t…” Weiss waved her hands for emphasis. “I can’t _challenge_ her on this. I hate the Fang too! I want to see them brought down so, so much.”

Weiss stomped up the stairs as best she could in her high-heeled boots. “And Blake’s trying to bring them down, to take responsibility… and after I accused her of… I should be helping her.”

Yang stomped up the steps in _her_ high-heeled boots in a much more effective manner. “So why aren’t you?”

Weiss stepped out onto the second floor and started looking for a table to claim. “I… It’s not _our_ responsibility.” Her voice had the same tone that Ruby’s did when she tried to weasel out of chores. “We’re… just children, almost.”

That seemed like an odd cop-out from Weiss, who usually prided herself on being mature and adult.

“Alright,” Yang said. It didn’t seem worth calling Weiss out on that. Not right now.

Weiss found a table, and they dropped their bags on it. Yang started browsing the aisles, but her mind was on Blake, and on the news articles she’d dug up.

What _were_ the Fang, Cinder, and Torchwick planning? Could Blake figure it out? Yang didn’t really know, and she’d been _involved_ . Except Blake didn’t _have_ to figure it out, not completely. She just had to guess at one small piece, be lucky, be in the right place at the wrong time, like she had at the docks. Or like Ruby had at the store.

Yang envisioned Vale as a map- no, not a map. A board game, all the pieces moving and interacting, except this was one where half the figures were invisible and everyone had their own agenda… Tactics and strategy on a grand level, where player and pawn were interchangeable.

Yang knew what her role was though, at least for now.

She had an idea. One that would solve another problem, too. Even if it wasn’t quite how she wanted the rest of her day to go.

Yang pulled out her Scroll, and called Ruby.

“Hey, little sis. Almost done with Crescent Rose?”

“Uh huh. Have you done Professor Port’s assignment? No, don’t answer, I know you haven’t. No more leaving things until the last minute. You’re doing it today.”

“Don’t bother protesting, Ruby, I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Because I said so! But look, if you get it all done, we’ll do something fun, ok? I brought something from home, because I knew you’d forget it. Check my bottom dresser drawer, underneath the textbooks.”

“Yuuup, your favourite game! Bring it to the library, and we’ll all play together, _if_ you finish the assignment.”

“See you soon, Rubes.”

Yang hung up.

_Damn, I’m good._

She glanced at the table where Weiss was now meticulously arranging her books, paper, and writing utensils. Yang glanced back at her Scroll, and was a bit surprised. She’d received a response from Neo at some point, and hadn’t noticed.

Yang smiled as she started reading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an up...date? What is that?
> 
> Sorry, sorry. I don't know why that one took so long.
> 
> Anyway... apparently I really like walking and talking. Or driving and talking. Or... it's just... the characters go different places AND they talk. At the same time! It's so efficient! Something to work on.
> 
> So obviously (but I'm pointing it out anyway), this chapter takes place right before Vol 2 Ep 2 'Welcome to Beacon', so yeah... The next little bits are going to be pretty interesting, maybe?
> 
> Also- I left out Yang getting high with Velvet. An oblique little reference which nonetheless I might guess that some people would be interested in? The decision to skip it was one part I didn't really want to go into explicit drug use (should I update the tags for mentioning it, anyway?), one part it's more ~mysterious~ this way, and one part I did want to move on from Velvet, at least for now. Any feedback?
> 
> Maybe a ways down the line I could do a bonus chapter collection or something, if anything else ends up in the same boat.


	14. Chapter Nine Part Two

“But let me once again be the voice of reason. We're students! We're not ready to handle this sort of situation!” Weiss exclaimed, as Yang watched her plans crumble apart.

She’d _tried_ , she really had...

Her efforts to distract Blake had failed, as they had only agitated the girl further. Now she _and_ Ruby were dead set on going out and looking for the White Fang. Yang could probably reign her sister in- once. She couldn’t control Blake though, and Yang knew the Faunus would go off on her own if she had to, and Yang would lose any semblance of trust or control over her partner.

She also knew that Weiss didn’t really believe that they were too young. She wanted to be convinced.

Blake was pointing out the door. “They're out there, _somewhere_ , planning their next move, and none of us know what it is, but it's  _coming!”_

 _You don’t even have to look-_ Yang cut that thought off.

Going against the whole team- when they knew her as a gung-ho adrenaline seeker- would just attract attention. Make them suspicious. Yang made her decision as Ruby blathered on about something. When she finished Yang made some empty statement of support, forcing enthusiasm she didn’t really feel.

Ruby ran off. Yang noted this absently. Her mind buzzed with thoughts. Ideas and plans and schemes clashed against each other, vying for attention until they formed the empty, white noise silence of a crowd in a dance club.

Yang had a bad feeling about all this.

 

* * *

 

 

 Sun leaned over to Blake and said something quietly. Blake brushed him off with a one word answer, but the blond monkey Faunus laughed, and Blake smiled. Yang looked away.

Yang took stock of her surroundings. She, Blake, Sun, and Sun’s teammate Neptune were on the lift down to Vale, looking to start their… investigation. Her eyes roamed over to Neptune, her temporary ‘partner’, who was seated next to Sun.

 He seemed… nice. He shifted awkwardly in his seat, clearly not knowing what to do with himself, but also not wanting to interrupt Sun and Blake. His nervousness was a far cry from the confident attitude he’d worn when he flirted with Weiss.

 Yang didn’t like him. Didn’t want him around.

 But some part of her was much happier that it was Ruby with Weiss, rather than the flirtatious boy, even if it meant that she couldn’t just slack off from investigating.

 Neptune noticed her gaze, and gave her a shaky smile. Yang tossed her head at Blake and Sun with a smirk, as if to wordlessly say, ‘get a room, you two’. Neptune ducked his head with a sheepish grin. It was a nice smile, Yang thought. Much better than the fake and sleazy leer he’d used on Weiss.

 Shortly the shuttle reached the terminal, and the group disembarked. Sun clapped Neptune’s shoulder.

 “Hey, next time you see me, I’ll be a bona fide _freedom fighter_.” He struck an outrageous pose.

 “Think you can handle wearing a hood and mask, bro? You can barely even manage a _shirt_ ,” Neptune joked.

 Blake frowned. “That’s not really funny.”

 The boys were chagrined and fell silent. Yang might have felt some humour at their antics, but she was too worked up herself. She walked up to Blake.

 Yang nudged Blake to get her attention, and gestured slyly at Sun, who had rebounded in the last few seconds and was joking with Neptune again. “So, this isn’t just an excuse for date, is it?”

 “Yang, this is serious,” Blake chided.

 “Soooo, yes? Come on, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed those _abs_.”

 “I…” Blake blushed. “Sun is nice, but I don’t know… I don’t think it’s a good time, for…”

 “But you _have_ thought about you and him?” Yang asked.

 “Ummm…” Blake’s blush deepened. It was a pretty sight, but it upset Yang, for some reason.

 A sudden dark impulse forced her to speak. “Hey, just be careful with him, alright?”

“What? You don’t trust him?” Blake sounded defensive.

“ _Not_ because he’s, you know, a Faunus,” Yang said firmly. “Just… guys can be weird, sometimes.”

 Blake furrowed her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

 “Just- he’s putting himself through a lot for you.” Yang had to do this carefully. “You gotta be sure you know _why_. And what he expects out of it,” she murmured.

 “I’ll keep that in mind,” Blake said. She glanced over at the boys, who were some distance away, joking and pushing each other. She shuffled her feet. “Speaking of, you’ll be alright with Neptune?” she asked. “I know Ruby just kind of saddled him with you. And, I don’t know, the way he was acting towards Weiss…”

 “Oh, you noticed that too? Like, take it down a notch, man.” Yang made a face. “Don’t worry, I can handle myself around pushy guys.”

  _One last try..._

 “But really, you’re sure about this? This whole plan?” she asked.

 Blake nodded. “We’ve been over this. It’s the best way to get information on what the White Fang are up to.”

 “And most dangerous.”

 Blake frowned. “We’ll be careful.”

 “Ok,” Yang spoke softly. “It’s just… what if someone recognizes you? Like Ro-” Yang paused for a moment, almost imperceptibly. “-man Torchwick? Or someone you uh, used to know?”

 She’d almost called him just by his first name, but Blake didn’t seem to have caught her near gaffe.

 “I… _had_ thought about that. But I don’t think that will happen,” Blake said after a moment. Her ears twitched, and Yang realized that she hadn’t even considered the possibility. “They give masks to potential recruits, and we’ll just be faces in the crowd. Or, _masks_ in the crowd, I mean.”

_Masks with ears and tails…_

 Not much of a disguise, in Yang’s opinion. And even though Blake was wearing a different set of clothes, Sun still had his usual outfit, the unbuttoned shirt exposing his chest and abs.

 Not that Yang begrudged him that. It _was_ quite the view.

 She looked at Blake for a moment. “All right. Just… are you sure there’s no-”

 Blake cut her off. “This is the _only_ way. We have to stop the White Fang, and… and we’ll be careful. I mean that, Yang.”

 Yang sighed in despair, but it sounded like relief. “Thanks, Blake. I’m just worried, is all. I… I guess I’m glad that Ruby’s just going to the CCT with Weiss.”

 Blake looked at the ground. “I- yeah. I am too. I really appreciate you girls helping me with this, but… you know I’d never send you, or, or Ruby into danger, right?”

 “We’re Huntresses. It’s what we do.”

 “This is different than fighting Grimm,” Blake said. “The Fang are _dangerous_. You have no idea…”

 Yang considered that for a moment. Danger, power… and fear. Yang knew what she wanted. What she needed.

  _Damnit, Blake…_

 “You be careful too,” Blake said. “This Junior guy sounds like a creep. How do you even know him?”

 Yang shrugged. “Just sort of happened, I guess.”

 Bringing up Junior had been a gamble, but one that Yang thought she’d win. Ruby had heard the name before, from Yang, so it wasn’t much of a sacrifice to reveal his existence- as long as she was careful otherwise..

 “Well, we should probably get going,” Blake said.

 “See you around,” Yang replied.

 ... _Why…_

 Blake joined Sun. Sun waved goodbye to Neptune. The pair walked off. Yang didn’t really know or care about how they were getting to the rally. Yang pulled her Scroll out of her jacket- the one Roman had given to her. For some reason had she really felt like wearing it..

 Neptune walked over to her, and Yang half turned to block his view of her Scroll.

 “Hey. So, uh, so how are we getting to this club? Are we walking, or…” He trailed off.

 Yang scrolled down to Roman’s number, thought for a moment, and then scrolled back up to Neo’s. She looked up at Neptune and smirked as she tapped out a message.

 “Hell no. We ride in _style_.”

 ... _Do you make me do this?_

 [blake n sun will b at wf rally]

 [THANKS FOR THE HEADS UP. ;)]

 

* * *

 

 _“_ Don’t you have ANOTHER helmet!?!” Neptune yelled as they whipped through the streets on Yang’s bike, Bumblebee. Ruby had named it, although Yang didn’t really see the resemblance.

 Yang laughed uproariously in response to Neptune’s distress. She figured he’d be safe if they crashed- he had so much gel in his blue hair it could function as a helmet on its own. They took a sharp turn, and Neptune shrieked and adjusted his grip around Yang’s stomach. He’d initially been hesitant about holding her, but had swiftly reconsidered when she’d kicked into gear. Yang didn’t really mind.

 “Hey!” she called back. “Watch where you put your hands!” She was only teasing- Neptune hadn’t hit on her- so far-, but she wasn’t going to let an opportunity to rattle the flirtatious boy go by. She thought she heard him stammer something in apology, but it was lost in another shriek when Yang accelerated again and he clutched himself to her back even tighter.

 This was the first time she’d gotten to really try out Bumblebee, and Yang was eager to put her through her paces. Unfortunately, Junior’s club wasn’t too far, and the streets were too narrow and busy to really let loose. However, Yang was able to test the gyro-stabilizers by weaving through traffic and around corners. Handled like a dream. Yang was proud of the work she’d done.

 All too soon, they arrived in front of the club, and Yang had to pry Neptune’s arms from around her. Yang pulled her helmet off and shook out her hair. She could feel the vibrations of the deep bass in the music.

 “Come on, my friend’s right in here,” she said to Neptune, inwardly delighted at his terrified expression and ruffled look. Yang considered that she might be carrying a grudge for her loss to him in World of Remnant.

 She’d been careful to only frame Junior in vagaries. A ‘friend’ who ‘knew’ stuff. Ruby knew that Yang had known the man for a while, but she didn’t know exactly what Junior did or what Yang had done for him. She’d just have to be careful that Junior didn’t accidentally reveal anything too incriminating to Neptune.

 “And where exactly is… here?”

  _Wait, he… didn’t just ask that, did he? Was the giant sign saying ‘Junior’s’ not a big enough hint?_

 Yang wondered how she had ever lost to him as she pushed open the club’s doors. The music suddenly blasted forth, now completely audible. It got her blood pumping.

 Part of her worried that Junior might not be too happy to see her again, after the way she had left. That he might try to attack her again.

 The rest of her welcomed the idea.

 

* * *

 

 “...which is something I CAN RELATE TO!” Junior shouted at his men.

 Yang smiled inwardly. This was going well. No fight, which was a disappointment, but Junior seemed cowed by her appearance- almost terrified, even- but he also hadn’t revealed anything worth knowing about Roman’s plans. This was the other reason she thought it’d be fine to interrogate him- the man was a horrendous information broker.

 Yang figured they were about done there, and she could safely call it off and head back to Beacon. Or maybe… maybe Neptune would be down for a drink and a dance? No, Junior was cooperating now, but she probably shouldn’t push him.

 The bearded man leaned forward, suddenly. “Why are _you_ asking me, anyway? I figure you’d know way more than I do, considering-”

 Yang cut him off. “Neptune, go ask the twins if _they_ know anything that their useless boss missed.”

 Neptune glanced between her and Junior. “Uh, who? Wait, those scary ladies in the dresses?”

 Yang smiled at him, and put her hand on his chest. “Just lay on the charm, lady-killer.”

 Neptune stared blankly for a moment, but then puffed himself up. “You got it! They won’t know what hit ‘em.” He strode off towards Melanie and Malachite, who were glowering and glaring, respectively, in a corner on the other side of the club.

 Yang looked back at Junior, who was watching her thoughtfully. “You just signed his death warrant,” he said. Yang didn’t respond.

 “So it’s true,” he continued after a moment. “You hooked up with Torchwick.”

 “ _Not_ -” Yang started. She tracked Neptune’s progress across the room. He was safely out of hearing, especially with the pounding music. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she protested lamely.

 Junior rubbed at a glass he’d already polished clean with a rag. “Congratulations are in order, I suppose,” he said, ignoring Yang’s protest. He set down the glass and pulled a bottle of scotch out from underneath the counter. It looked like it was good quality, but Yang couldn’t judge. “A round is in order, I think.”

  _Huh, smarter than he lets on…_

 “Yeah, alright, you got me. No use denying it,” Yang conceded. “I’ve been working with Roman.” It felt good to admit it to someone, finally.

 Junior produced two small shot glasses and partially filled them. He cocked an eyebrow. “First name basis, huh?” His voice didn’t carry any special tone, but it still conveyed what he was hinting at.

 Yang shook her head. “Nothing like that. We just have a… working relationship.”

 Junior slid one of the glasses over to Yang. “To working relationships,” he said, and downed his. Yang mimicked him… and immediately regretted it, as the scotch burned its way down her throat, causing her to cough and sputter. Junior laughed. The drink settled warmly in her stomach.

“I’m proud of you,” he said abruptly. Yang was taken aback.

 “Proud of me?” she asked, surprised.

 “Yeah. You’re moving up, making a name for yourself. I’d like to think I had a hand in that, getting you started.” He sighed. “I just wish your… resignation hadn’t been so… explosive. I don’t know what brought that on.”

 Yang felt some regret at that. She’d just been so fed up with him- fed up with how he strung her along, fed up with how he never looked at her face, fed up with… But the man had given her a chance, given her guidance when she’d been lost, given her a community when she’d been alone.

 She didn’t apologize. She couldn’t.

 “You’ve heard of what I’ve been up to?” Yang asked.

 Junior shrugged. “Not much, mostly just rumours, and only because I’ve been looking. Whispers about a golden fighter who knocked out one of the Fang’s best. I knew it had to be you,” he said. “‘Course those vermin don’t want that spreading around too much, so that’s really about it. Good job, by the way.”

 Yang stared at him. She’d known Junior as an oafish creep, who was more interested in looking at her rear than looking for information. But he’d pieced together whispers and rumours into the truth. Maybe he was a better information broker than she’d thought-

 -and he was _proud_ of her?

 “What, is this where we have a little heart-to-heart, you say you always thought of me as a daughter, we cry and hug it out?” Yang tried to hide her discomfort.

 Junior sneered. “A daughter? Hell no! More like a little punk I couldn’t get rid of.” He had a way of mixing anger and sarcasm into in his speech that Yang couldn’t fully intuit. She was never quite sure when he was truly angry, or joking. Or both.

 She looked around the club. No matter what other faults she found with the man, Junior knew how to run a club. The black dėcor strained against the harsh white lights in rigid, geometric battlelines, stained with the blood-red trees, the only colour in the room. The all black walls made the room seem infinite, like the dancefloor was suspended and isolated in an abyss.

 A thumping track matched her heartbeat, matched her thoughts. Yang had always liked it here. She’d spent a lot of time at the club over the last few years, a home away from home when home was too much, too full and too empty. Something about it made her feel… special. Like she stood apart, like she was the most noticeable and unique person in the room, no matter how many other partiers were around.

 Not so many patrons now, though. Most of them had left upon Yang’s entrance. Several of Junior’s men lingered around, pointedly _not_ paying attention to their boss and his guest. In the corner, Melanie slapped Neptune, and Militia kicked his groin. Better that than the other way around. The twins stormed off as Neptune lay on the ground.

“So!,” Junior said, slamming his hands on the counter. The sudden noise startled Yang. “Onto business!”

 “What?” Yang asked dumbly.

 “Here’s the deal. I’m sure you don’t want the knowledge about your current… associates to get out, do you?” Junior’s voice took on a conniving tone. “But my silence is going to cost you.”

 Yang was incredulous. “Are you really threatening me? Don’t you remember the _last_ time you pissed me off?” Yang replied, not cowed so easily. This was the kind of conversation she’d expected of Junior. Threats and blackmail. Not pride and regret.

 “Of course I do.” Junior’s voice took on that not-quite angry tone again. “But this time I’ll go to the cops. Tell them everything I know about you Blondie. Your new boss too, for that matter.”

 “You wouldn’t,” Yang said. Junior _hated_ involving the police in anything he did.

 “I would.”

 “Torchwick wouldn’t let you get away with it. He’d hurt you.”

 “But _you_ would be ruined.”

 He couldn’t be serious, could he? There was no way he was willing to risk that much _just_ to hurt her. Yang clenched her fists. She’d have to try to call his bluff. “I… I could hurt you. I could _kill_ you.”

 Junior laughed, although there wasn’t much mirth to it. “And then you’d be arrested, so you’d still lose.” He fixed her with a steady stare. “But really… no, I don’t think you could, Blondie.”

 Yang glanced at Neptune, who had seated himself, but still seemed to be in discomfort. A person’s Aura blocked damage, but not pain. A hit to the right area, or a surprise attack, could really lay someone out, Aura be damned.

 But what damage could Junior do? Not with weapons, but with words. All he had were rumours, not enough to really _hurt_ her. But if he whispered into the right ears, in the right places…

 Yang looked at the man. He stared back, calm. He seemed like a stranger to her.

 What could she do? Yang kept making plans, half-formed thoughts of action that mostly involved punching Junior. And then punching him again and again.

 But that wouldn’t work, would it? Sure, she could hurt him, but then he’d really have no reason not to go to the cops. _Any_ information he could give them on Torchwick’s operation would guarantee Junior the strictest protection, backed by Atlas’ military. He’d have no fear of future reprisals, from herself or from Roman.

 And… Neptune would see. See Yang go crazy. Maybe that wouldn’t matter. Maybe she didn’t care. But maybe he’d become wary of her. Scared. And then what? She didn’t know.

 Yang imagined slamming Junior into and through the shelves of liquor behind him. But despite her violent fantasies she never actually considered killing him. He’d been right on both counts.

 She needed Roman. Yang didn’t want to have to rely on him to solve her problems, but she couldn’t see a way out of this one without his help. For now though… she’d have to play along with Junior.

 Yang burned with impotent fury. Her strength, her fighting skill, her Aura and her Semblance, and her weapons, they were useless right now. She felt powerless and SHE. HATED. IT.

 “What’s your price,” she said in a small voice.

 “You know,” he drawled, enjoying out his victory, “I never got that apology you promised last time. How ‘bout we just kiss and make up, and forget about all of this.”

 Yang felt like she’d just taken the hardest punch to the gut she’d ever experienced.

 “You can’t be serious. You, you _creep_ ,” she almost pleaded, and hated herself more than she hated Junior. Yang had flirted and teased, but always on her terms. She’d never had any intention of following through.

 “Oh, and you can call me ‘sir’, while you’re at it,” Junior gloated.

 Yang wanted to explode, to unleash Ember Celica and smear the smug bastard’s head all over the dance floor. _Nothing_ could be worth prostrating herself before him. Accepting defeat in such a _humiliating_ way. Who cared what he knew! She didn’t need Beacon, she’d just be a full-time criminal, with Roman! She’d just...

 Just...

 Ruby’s face flashed across her mind. Weiss cutely stamping her feet. The twitch of Blake’s smile. Glynda handing back a perfect test, looking pleased.

 And Roman… Roman wanted her at Beacon. He’d be disappointed.

 “Ok…” Yang’s voice shook. Junior waited. He made a ‘go on’ gesture with his head. “... sir.”

 Junior stayed in place behind the bar, hands resting casually on the counter. Yang realized he was going to make her start. She let out a shuddering sigh and leaned forwards. She closed her eyes.

 And then… there was contact. Soft. Warm. A few beard hairs lightly tickled her.

 And then… it was over. Just a peck.

  _My first..._

 Yang opened her eyes. Junior looked back, appraisingly. It wasn’t about Junior being a lecherous pervert- the kiss had been purely about humiliating Yang. The thought wasn’t any comfort.

 Yang realized she’d misjudged the man. She had been for years. She’d thought of him as a buffoon, a moron playing at criminal with a silly nickname. She’d wondered why he insisted on being called Junior, why he’d rage impotently at his goons…

 She knew now. ‘Junior’ was just a front. A harmless persona that Hei Xiong, criminal and power-broker, could hide behind. She felt something like respect, but it only strengthened the humiliating she was feeling. She wouldn’t make this mistake again.

 “You done?” she asked. Her voice was back. Good.

 Hei nodded. “Yeah. I hope you remember this. Don’t mess with Junior.”

  _Oh, I’ll remember._

 Yang turned to leave before he could dismiss her. “Don’t come back, Blondie,” he said to her back.

 Yang walked away. She didn’t swagger. She didn’t pay any attention to the twins, giggling in spiteful mirth. She didn’t notice Neptune, confusion and interest written all over his face.

 She certainly didn’t hear Hei wish her luck, quiet and sincere.

 Neptune stood as she approached. He’d apparently recovered from his encounter with the Malachite twins. He walked just behind her as they exited the club. The cool night air refreshed her. Yang realized she was sweating.

 “Hey, uh, what was that about? Did you get more information?” Neptune asked.

  _Shut up._

 “Is he your _boyfriend_? Ex?”

  _Shut up._

 “Seems a bit old. I mean I’m not judging-”

_Shut up!_

 “Are you… alright, Yang?”

 Yang spun, and glared at Neptune with every ounce of anger she had. “Be. Quiet” She snapped the syllables out. Yang had to look up at him. Even in heels, the boy was still noticeably taller than her. It wasn’t fair. “You didn’t see anything!”

 “Oh, ok! Sorry! I just-”

 “Not-” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “-one word. To anyone!”

 Neptune put his hands out to the side, and flashed what he probably thought was a reassuring smile, but it looked strained. “You got it, not one word. I won’t tell anyone. In- in fact, I don’t even know what we’re talking about.”

 Yang stared up at him. He looked down at her. He had something in his eyes, like… pity. He faltered under the force of her gaze. “I-I-I-I’m real bad at keeping secrets, though. Uh, s-see? Couldn’t even… keep that secret… secret.”

 Yang’s hand snapped and grabbed his uniform’s tie. She yanked his neck down, until their heads were level, and just inches apart.

 “ _Learn_ ,” she growled. Neptune nodded quickly, his mouth open, but he didn’t make a sound. Yang’s jaw and mouth hurt, and she realized her face had been locked into a snarl. She forced it into something more neutral, although it was probably still quite the grimace. She held Neptune’s head just in front of her.

 Yang pulled him towards her on impulse. Their teeth made banged together, but their lips made contact, moved in rhythm for just a moment. Yang felt… she felt Neptune push against her. She let go and he stumbled back.

 Yang turned away before she had to see him. Before he could see her. She marched over to Bumblebee where it was parked on the street edge. Her mouth was dry. She felt like vomiting. Yang took a deep breath, and fished her helmet out of its hidden storage compartment, but didn’t put it on. Instead, she mounted the bike, and stared at the black icon she’d painted on her helmet. She thought she could just barely see her reflection, just the hint of a silhouette.

 Her Scroll buzzed, and Yang’s hand automatically moved to check it.

 Neo.

 [FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT! :D]

  _What does that mean?_

 She felt Neptune’s presence beside her. “Yang…” he started, but was cut off as her Scroll rang. Blake this time, a group call with Ruby and Weiss. Yang answered.

 “ _Everyone! If you can hear me-_ ” Blake’s voice was indeed staticky and almost covered up by the wind.

 Sun’s voice, though, came through loud and clear. “ _HEEEELLLLP!”_

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter in a few hours/later tonight.


	15. Chapter Nine Part Three

_Damnit, Blake-_

Metal screeched and groaned as a car spun out, smashed aside by the massive combat mech currently barrelling down the highway. Yang easily maneouvered around it, Bumblebee’s handling as smooth as silk beneath her.

_-the highway is not ‘unoccupied’!_

Yang put aside her misgivings with their hastily constructed plan as she came up beside the mech. The mech had no windows on the cockpit, so Yang couldn’t see the crime lord currently piloting it. She figured there were cameras so that he could see out, though, and see _her_ . Yang shifted forwards in her seat ever so slightly. The movement could be mistaken for nothing, just a natural motion while riding a motorcycle, if it was even noticed at all, or- It could be a _nod_.

Yang waited.

_Come on, come on…_

She got her wish. Not breaking stride, the main body dipped down and back up, just barely distinct from its regular movements, but noticeable enough. Yang could swear the arm closer to her made a tiny ‘follow me’ gesture, as well.

Then that same arm took a swipe at her.

Yang dropped back. Adrenaline flowed through her, from the thrill of the chase and impending fight.

 _Thanks, Roman! This is_ exactly _what I needed..._

Yang glanced back at Neptune. “We gotta slow it down!” she shouted, now free to take action. He replied in the affirmative. He seemed much more comfortable on the bike now, holding on to the rear or hanging on with just his legs, instead of clutching to Yang. She put aside her thoughts on why that might be.

Roman didn’t give Neptune any time to attack, as he suddenly started aggressively ploughing through traffic. Multiple vehicles were even sent flying through the air. Yang barely even had time to react as a pair of vehicles bore down on them.

_Holy shit, Roman!_

“Hold on!” Yang shouted as she flung Bumblebee into a nearly horizontal skid. She felt a whoosh of air on her skin and through her hair as a car passed within inches of her head. Barely a fraction of a second later, the bike’s automatic gyro-stabilizers kicked in, and the it righted itself, a move that only Bumblebee could pull off, to her knowledge. Yang wrenched the handlebars to right her course and accelerated, dodging through more cars.

Yang noted that these vehicles hadn’t been hit too hard, and she figured the occupants would probably be alright. Even with locked Auras, people were pretty durable. Those cars that Roman had sent flying, though...

Neptune had somehow hung on, and was now taking potshots with his rifle. Surprisingly, he actually connected with all of them, massive bolts of electricity bursting across the massive machine’s metal shell. The mech faltered for a moment, but otherwise seemed unphased. Yang heard an electric whir, and then felt Neptune _stand up_.

Suddenly, Bumblebee bounced, and the boy went flying through the air, his rifle now a staff or spear of some sort. He landed on the mech’s back in a flash of light, jabbing his weapon through the armour.

Yang blinked. _Ok, that was actually… pretty cool._

But it wasn’t to last, as the mech started twisting and spinning. Its torso even completed several full rotations, while the legs didn’t lose any speed or veer off course. Neptune was almost flung off, but barely kept a grip on the shaft of his weapon. He shouted in fright.

 _Scratch the cool points. Although, he sounds_ way _less scared than he did on Bumblebee…_

Something happened in front of the mech that Yang couldn’t see, causing two bursts of yellow-golden light. The mech spun one last time, and Neptune flew off, colliding with something in the air- Oh, it was Sun. The pair of boys flew off the side of the highway.

Yang shrugged. They’d probably be fine. Probably.

 

* * *

  

_Yang remembers…_

_She doesn’t want to remember_ that _. She thinks of something else instead._

_Yang remembers…_

_Aura blocks damage, not pain._

_She is eight years old, and angry. There is a bully, at school. A year older than her. Yang tells herself that he needs to be taught a lesson, taught not to pick on the weak…_

_But really she just wants an excuse._

_Yang’s aura is unlocked by this point. Still so young. She is stronger and faster than other children. Yet she is untrained, and unfocused, and uncoordinated. The bully punches her in the eye. The bully’s friend pushes her down._

_She wasn’t expecting two of them. She wasn’t expecting the pain. She cries. But there is a feeling, an itch in her eyes..._

 

She groans in the ruins of a massive concrete support. Spits out dust and rubble. But not blood.

 

_Yang remembers…_

_She is eleven years old and suspended from school. Now she knows what to expect, and none of the other children can stand up to her. Even some of the teachers think twice, and so she is removed._

_This is what rouses Taiyang from his waking slumber (after being cajoled by a raucous crow, that is). He decides she needs training, discipline. To know how to_ fight _, and not just brawl. He teaches her how to ignore pain, has her strengthen her limbs by striking trees and posts. Before long, Yang dents steel with her blows._

_Her uncle whispers where best to strike to cause others pain, pain that will defeat any foe, no matter how deep their Aura. Her father pretends he doesn’t hear these whispers. Her uncle is a pragmatist. Better that she does not fight… but best that she wins when she does, as he knows she will. Her uncle is reckless._

_All this seems counterproductive, foolish and negligent. A mistake, to give an angry girl with a penchant for violence the tools to deliver it better. Perhaps Taiyang is not quite ready to be a father again._

_Or perhaps he was a warrior before he was a father, and knows how to teach nothing else…_

 

“Yang!”

 

_Yang remembers…_

_She is fourteen years old, and she looks left, then right, then steps out into the street. She doesn’t quite remember the bit after that…_

_She remembers the days and weeks after better than she wishes. She remembers the pain from her cracked rib making it hard to breath. Her chest is a single, massive bruise. She remembers being so exhausted from Aura depletion that she can barely move. She’s not strong enough yet._

_It hurts so much. It hurts too much to even cry._

_She remembers her father and her sister at her bedside, so worried. She doesn’t deserve it._

_She never tells them she stepped out in front of that car on purpose..._

 

Yang rises. She is strong now. Slammed through two massive concrete pillars into a third. Punched through _that_ by a massive war-mech, and she is barely phased.

She is _incredibly_ pissed, though.

She clenches her fists. Her eyes itch. The mech steps forward, prepares to strike. Roman is testing her. Wants to see what she’s made of, she’s sure of this.

She doesn’t give a damn who the mech’s pilot is, or what he wants. She is going to destroy it, just to prove she can.

The mech attacks.

Ruby isn’t worried. Ruby thinks Yang draws strength from being hit, takes the energy from the blow. Ruby is not quite right. But she’s not quite wrong, either.

Aura blocks damage, not pain.

And Yang’s strength...

 _Fuck_ _Roman_.

...is more…

 _Fuck Junior_.

...of a state…

_FUCK BLAKE AND FUCK NEPTUNE AND FUCK ALL OF THIS._

…of mind.

 

* * *

 

Roman rolled to his feet even as the wreckage of his mech fell to the ground, encircling him. He casually brushed his coat off and said something, but he was too far and spoke too low. He gave her a glance, for just a split second, a slight frown on his face. Not the frown of a man who’d just had his bipedal tank destroyed around him, who was surrounded by enemies, but the frown of a man who wasn’t quite sure _exactly_ how many enemies.

Yang nodded in answer, just the slightest motion of her chin. She’d made her point, so there was no sense _worrying_ him, was there? But then again, if he was going to make her prove why she was worthy of working for him, well… She saw Roman brace himself.

Yang locked an explosive round into her left gauntlet and punched it towards him at high speed. She had no illusions that it would connect, but she was eager to see what he’d do. He didn’t seem to be dodging, so what was his plan?

There was a blur, and then the expected explosion, too soon. When the fire and smoke faded, she saw… pink.

Neo slung her parasol over her shoulder in a dainty pose, although she didn’t move from her defensive position in front of Roman. The umbrella looked frilly and fragile, but it’d just blocked one of Yang’s custom-made ‘Grimm-cinerator’ explosive rounds, so obviously it was much, much stronger than it looked. In that way, Yang figured it probably matched its wielder.

“Ladies… Ice Queen,“ Roman said. “Always a pleasure.” He gave them  a mocking salute. It made sense for Roman not to single out Yang, even if she had just destroyed his mech, but why call out Weiss? Could he actually _be_ mad she destroyed his mech?

“Neo, if you would?” Roman commanded.

Neo forewent any attempt at subtlety, in contrast. She bowed low, her mismatched gaze locked directly onto Yang’s, in a way that Yang knew meant ‘come and get me’.

Yang obliged, dashing forwards at the villainous duo with a yell. Neither Neo nor Roman reacted, but Yang didn’t hesitate. The best acts were the ones that contained no lies, afterall. At the last second, Neo moved her parasol to block the blow meant for her head. There was a flash of blue light, and-

Roman and Neo _shattered_ , bits of glass raining down where they had been standing, fragments of their reflections spinning through the air even when the sources seemed to be missing.

 _Well,_ that’s _a new one…_

A Bullhead transport rapidly ascended and roared by overhead, its engines deafening. Yang saw Neo and Roman looking out from the cargo compartment before the closing door blocked them from view. The other members of Team RWBY joined her.

“So I guess he got a new henchman…” Yang muttered, more in affirmation to herself than anything else.

She tried to piece together what had happened. Did Neo and Roman… teleport? Or perhaps an illusion to cover their escape. _Something_ solid had stopped her attack, though. Neo’s parasol? But then how could she have moved so fast? A Semblance? Neo’s? Roman’s? Both, in tandem?

“Yeah, I guess she really made our plans…” Weiss said, her voice too chipper.

_Wait, that pause, she’s not going to- Oh no._

“-fall apart!”

 _Is that what_ I _sound like?_

Yang wasn’t in the mood for puns, even if she were to ignore how Weiss just stolen her shtick. “No, just… no,” she said, her bad mood souring her voice. Blake walked away.

“What- but, you do it!” Weiss said, indignantly. She put her hands on her hips.

Yang mirrored Weiss’ pose. “There’s a time and a place for jokes.” Sure, she’d always considered a good fight to be a great pick-me up, but sometimes… She needed a moment to clear her head, and bad puns didn’t really help.

“Was this not it?”

Truthfully, if Yang had been feeling better, she would have been the first to start cracking jokes. But she wasn’t, and she had decided that being a contrarian would help. “No, it just wasn’t very good.” Not that _quality_ was what was important in those kinds of… jokes.

Yang turned and started following Blake. She wanted to get this night over with.

“Well at least I’m trying!” Weiss called out. Yang felt a pang of regret. She _had_ been encouraging Weiss to break out of her prim and proper shell… and part of her just didn’t like it when the heiress was upset. She’d have to consider apologizing, sometime later.

“Wait… where are Sun and Neptune?” Ruby asked. The question stopped Yang in her tracks. Seemed like it worked on Blake and Weiss, too. The four girls stared at each other in confusion.

“Uh, I saw them go over the edge of the highway,” Yang volunteered after a moment. “Back that way. Just before Weiss knocked the mech off.”

Weiss glanced at the direction Yang had pointed in. “They should have been here almost right away. You don’t suppose…?” She looked at Blake in concern.

Ruby piped up. “No way! I bet they’re super-tough and strong. A fall like that wouldn’t even phase ‘em!” Yang put aside her concerns about her little sister thinking some _boys_ were ‘super-tough and strong’. That was a problem for another time.

“Or they were captured,” Blake muttered. She had already pulled out her Scroll and had been typing on it. Blake didn’t say anything else, and just focused intently on the tiny screen. Yang tried to ignore how much it irked her that Blake had shown almost as much concern for some pretty-boy she’d met, like, twice, than she’d ever shown for her team.

After a moment, Blake’s Scroll emitted a tiny ping, and she relaxed. “They’re fine,” Blake said, with relief obvious in her voice. Yang and the others let out thankful sighs as well, although Yang’s was more because she didn’t want to go on some rescue mission than actual concern for the two.

 _Well… I guess I_ would _care a bit if Nep- if they got hurt. They… they were nicer than I give them credit for._

“Um, so where _are_ they?” Ruby asked.

Blake kept reading. Her golden eyes widened, and then quickly narrowed. “They… went to get _noodles_. They’re having _dinner_.”

“WHAT!”

“No way!”

“The- the nerve!”

Their indignation was cut short by the sound of sirens in the distance. Overhead a trio of sharp-angled aircraft that Yang didn’t recognize whipped by, their engines a higher pitched whine than the more familiar Bullheads.

“Dragoons!” Weiss yelped.

Yang and Ruby looked at her in confusion. Blake had adopted a wary stance, her eyes and ears straining against the mist.

“Atlas military,” Weiss explained. “A suggestion, girls? Perhaps it would be better if we were not… _here_.” Her voice had an almost panicked edge.

Yang and the other girls swiftly agreed as well, not to Yang’s surprise. They all had reasons to want to avoid the infamously hard-backed General Ironwood. Blake certainly wouldn’t want her past association with the White Fang to come to light, and Yang figured that Weiss wouldn’t want her father to hear any unsavoury rumours. As for Ruby… she was probably remembering the times she’d been chewed out by Professor Goodwitch for night-time heroics and was looking to avoid a repeat.

With their plan of action settled, Ruby set them on their way. “Team RWBY!” commanded their diminutive leader. “Scarper!” Ruby vanished in a blur of rose petals.

“Ru _by_!” Weiss called out. “Wait!” She ran off after her partner. Blake and Yang caught each other’s eyes and took off together, in the opposite direction as Ruby and Weiss.

Despite being somewhat winded from the chase and the fight, the pair swiftly traversed a good distance. Suddenly Yang stopped. “Oh, damn! Bumblebee!”

Blake turned back. “Uh, what? You mean that combo move?”

Yang shook her head. “No, my bike! I left it up on the highway, I can’t just leave it there!” The thought of leaving the motorcycle she’d put so much time and effort (and money) into, to be towed, or seized by the police or military, or just plain _stolen_ , almost made her frantic. The perfect end to a terrible night. “I _have_ to go get her,” Yang declared.

Blake regarded her for a moment. “Ok. I’ll go with you.”

Yang wished she wasn’t quite as surprised, or as touched. “Really?”

“Yeah. It’s the least I can do.” Blake smiled softly. “Besides, partners are supposed to stick together, right?”

Yang stared for a moment. “Yeah. Right.” She knew that Blake had as good a reason as any to not want to attract attention to herself, or to risk being noticed by the military, so this show of solidarity wasn’t something she had been expecting.

Climbing up the massive pillars supporting the freeway wasn’t possible, at least not without attracting too much attention, so the pair had to find another on-ramp. Luckily, there was no traffic. They arrived a bit beyond the spot Roman’s mech had smashed through the side and gone over. Yang could see flashing lights down the road, casting an eerie, changing glow amongst the mist and the shadows of wrecked cars. Fortunately there didn’t seem to be anyone this far up the road.

Yang scanned the darkness- there! Bumblebee’s silhouette, the yellow coat washed in blue, and then red, over and over. The bike was where she’d left it, off to the side of the highway, near the hole in the wall. She pointed it out to Blake and they swiftly, but stealthily made their way up. Blake took the lead, and Yang tried to mimic her movements as best she could.

Blake paused when they reached the bike, her gaze focused down the road. “This is all my fault,” she said softly.

“What?”

“All this… all those people got hurt, because of me. You were right,” Blake said, “Torchwick recognized us right away.”

Yang frowned. “That’s… you couldn’t have known he’d chase you in a giant mech…”

 _I didn’t expect_ that _, either… Although honestly, what_ was _I expecting him to do?_

Blake shook her head. “But it was _my_ plan to lure him onto the freeway. I guess I… just didn’t realize there’d be so many…” She trailed off.

“It wasn’t a _great_ plan,” Yang admitted, “but it _was_ better here than on the streets. And we had the final fight somewhere there was no one around. That counts for something. You did your best.” The statement sounded hollow to Yang’s ears.

“Better here than there…” Blake hugged herself. “Better them than us… What _about_ them?” She sighed, and whispered, “That kind of thinking is why I left the Fang.”

Yang didn’t have a response to that.

A sudden interruption saved her from having to think of one. “Excuse me, ladies,” a male voice said from behind them. “Can I ask what you’re doing here?”

Yang spun, caught by surprise. A police officer stood a little ways behind them, obviously wary, but at least he wasn’t pointing a weapon at them.

_Uhhhhh..._

“Just getting my bike?” Yang was so taken aback that she blurted out the truth.

The officer looked at them suspiciously. Actually, mostly just at Blake. “You’re not injured?” He asked. “From the… what the hell did they say that thing was…”

Yang thought fast. “The giant robot! It was like, soooo scary, right?” She looked at Blake.

“Uh, right.”

“It was like, smashing up all the cars?” Yang continued. “It was gonna smash us, we were like, OMG!?”

“Yeah. Oh em gee.”

“So we like, ditched the bike? It’s gone now though, right?”

The officer seemed to be less suspicious now. “Yes, it’s gone, but we’re still trying to figure things out. Did either of you happen to see anything?”

Both Yang and Blake shook their heads. “Like, no! We were too busy like, hiding?” Yang was thankful that the cop was distant and it was dark. She was an awful liar. She noticed that the cop was still mostly focused on Blake, despite Yang doing all the talking. "But it’s like, gone for sure?”

The officer nodded. “Yeah. We think it went over the edge- there.” He pointed at the obvious hole in the electric barriers. “You’re sure you’re not injured?”

“Like, we’re fine?” Yang paused. “Um, we’re not in like, trouble, are we? ‘Cuz like, I gotta get home, before my dad flips.”

The officer stepped back. “No, no. You’re free to go. Stay safe.” He looked directly at Yang. “Keep your friend out of trouble. We think that… robot might have been White Fang.” He started to walk away.

Yang watched him go, before mounting Bumblebee. Blake stayed standing. “Well, that was lucky,” she said. “I can’t believe I let him sneak up on us like that. I’m so… Good acting, Yang.”

Yang started Bumblebee up. “Not really. Why was he intent on you?”

Blake shrugged. “Because I’m a Faunus. Most cops are suspicious of us,” she said, matter-of-factly. “That one was one of the nicer ones, though. He let me go. Probably only because you’re here, though.”

Yang cocked her head in thought. She looked at Blake. “Uh, Blake?”

“What?”

Yang tapped the top of her head.

Blake stared, and then touched one of her ribbonless ears. “No!” She began panickedly searching herself and the surrounding area. Finally she stopped and slumped, defeated. “I must have dropped my ribbon somewhere.”

How had Yang not noticed? Even now, the sight of Blake’s natural ears was incredibly rare, but other than being black and triangle shaped, they were incredibly different than the ribbon. Was she just so accustomed to Blake wearing the ribbon that she didn’t pay any attention?

How had  _Blake_ not noticed?

Yang pulled her helmet out of its storage compartment in Bumblebee. She offered it to Blake. “Here.”

Blake took it, but closed her eyes in exasperation. “Thanks.” She stood there for a moment, before placing the helmet on. Yang wondered if it was uncomfortable for her ears. Blake saddled up behind Yang, wrapping her arms around Yang’s stomach. “I don’t think this night can get any worse. Let’s just get back to Beacon.”

Yang set off at a moderate pace. She wanted to get back to Beacon too, but she didn’t want to agitate Blake any further by driving too fast. Or the cops, for that matter. She noticed an usually large number of cruisers patrolling the unusually empty streets, and a few times one of the Atlesian ‘Dragoons’ passed overhead. Fortunately they didn’t have any further incidents, despite Blake jinxing them earlier.

Blake was silent the whole trip, lost in thought. She kept her hold on Yang, a warm presence leaning into her, the hard helmet pressed into Yang’s upper back. Yang realized Blake was probably getting a mouth full of her hair. Yang didn’t mind, much.

Yang had found a cheap storage facility near Beacon’s lower dock to store Bumblebee in. She pulled up and stopped, waiting for Blake to stand. Waiting for herself to be ready. She knew Blake was upset, and that made Yang nervous.

Especially when it was probably mostly her own fault.

Yang got tired of waiting. “Hey, uh, we’re here?”

She felt Blake start. “Oh, sorry. I was just…” Blake dismounted. She took the helmet off and shook her hair out.

“You can hang on to the helmet until we get back to the dorms,” Yang said. “I don’t think anyone will be out, but better safe than sorry. You will look kind of dumb, though.”

Blake didn’t reply for a long moment. Finally, she looked at Yang, her golden eyes gleaming. “Tonight was a disaster,” she said in a choked voice. “Torchwick got away, we didn’t learn _anything_ at the rally, and all those people…”

Yang didn’t like seeing her so down. “We blew up the mech. That’s something, right? And we got away with it too, looks like."

“It’s not just that,” Blake sighed. “This wasn’t supposed to even happen. It was supposed to be… safe. I said it would be. I said I wouldn’t put Ruby in danger, but look how _that_ turned out. You must be so disappointed...”

A thought occurred to Yang. If Blake was discouraged by the night’s events, then she might not be so eager to keep trying to bring down Torchwick and the White Fang. Yang liked that idea. But as she looked at Blake, who seemed so...

“It’s not your fault. It’s really not. If anything it’s…” Yang stopped that sentence in its tracks. “Roman was the one who decided to chase you, who decided to start smashing all those cars.” That didn’t seem to cheer Blake any.

“As for Ruby… I’m her big sister, and I try to look out for her,” Yang said. “But that girl’s a walking danger magnet. She gets into trouble just going to get groceries. I guarantee she was on some grand adventure today, completely unrelated. Fighting some over-hyped tin can is not a big deal. She can look after herself.”

Blake seemed like she was feeling a bit better. Maybe. Yang tried to distract her some more. “Anyway, the night might have been a bust, but you did spend it with a grade A hottie,” she joked. “Even if he did ditch at the end.”

Blake fixed her with a flat look for a moment, before grinning sheepishly. “Sun was pretty nice…” Her smile drew into a frown. “What was he _thinking_ , just vanishing like that? Right when we had Roman cornered…”

Yang didn’t press her on the topic. She wanted Blake to draw her own conclusions.

Blake looked back at Yang. “But what about you? Was Neptune alright?” Her face grew sly. “He try to flirt with you?”

_We did more than flirt..._

Yang finally hopped off of Bumblebee and opened up the storage facility’s large sliding door as she thought. She’d kissed Neptune… but only because she was so upset about getting played by Junior. The memory still rankled her.

And she still wasn’t sure she trusted Neptune not to spill the beans about… what he’d seen. An image crossed her mind- Neptune and Sun, eating noodles, laughing at the story of her humiliation. Yang grimaced.

Blake must have noticed her change in disposition. “Everything all right?”

“Oh, no! Neptune was fine,” Yang said, “it was some… thing else. Not the best night for me too, honestly. We didn’t learn anything useful, either.” She rolled Bumblebee inside.

“No?”

Yang shook her head as she slid close the door. “Just that Roman hired some guys a while back, but I’m pretty sure Ruby beat them up and they got arrested.”

“Ruby did?” Blake sounded incredulous.

Yang laughed, glad for the distraction. “Yeah, like I was saying, girl can’t go five minutes without things going crazy. It was back in the summer…”

Keep Blake happy, stop her from investigating. Keep Roman satisfied, be Blake’s friend. Yang didn’t know how she’d pull it off. But she’d figure it out. She _had_ to. Had to.

If she couldn’t… Yang didn’t think about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's 'Minor Hiccup' and 'Painting the Town' covered and Yang's terrible night out is done. Next up, Yang's _amazing_ night out, the dance!
> 
> I really don't like when fanfics just recap canon events, so I wasn't too thrilled including those scenes from the fight, but hopefully I delved into Yang's mindset enough to make it distinct from the show and worthwhile.
> 
> I had originally written a scene where Oobleck shows up after the fight, but I cut it because it didn't fit the tone and honestly it didn't really add much. I can post it in the comments though, if anyone's interested.
> 
> Dragoons were/are (light to medium) cavalry units/mounted infantry. I thought it was an appropriate name for the Atlas light aircraft/dropship things, and it fit with the Knight/Paladin robot designations. Also, Dragoon is a hella cool name.
> 
> Also, I'm thinking of re-doing my chapter naming scheme. Like, giving them actual names. Right now this is chapter 15, but also the third part of chapter nine. Kiiiind of a mess. But then I'd have to actually think of names for them...


End file.
